The Thoughts of Cory LaViska

I’ve come to the conclusion that the Nintendo Wii might be a little too intense for me. I don’t own one, nor have I had even the slightest desire to obtain one. Today, I was reaffirmed that my decision to remain a virgin to the Wii was a good one. Introducing wiihaveaproblem.com. From the homepage:

Wii have a problem is a blog focused on bringing you the latest trend in gaming violence. That of damage caused by window lickers who should not be participating in activity of any form…yet own a Wii. Why? Because we’re fanboys that’s why.

Brilliant…cataloging rambunctious video gamers who proudly admit their self-inflicted idiocies to the world. Why didn’t I think of that?

It’s getting late and I’m only running off of five hours of sleep from last night. I managed to do absolutely nothing productive tonight, with the exception of watch Thank You For Smoking and talk to Jared via IM.

Ironically, my lack of productivity tonight actually constitutes as being productive in my world. So unproductively-productive that I wasted almost an hour on Line Rider trying to get the little dude to do loops without falling or crashing. That’s what I call effective self-management.

Ah, yes. This morning was calm and comforting. I prepared some toast and yogurt to start the day off right. This would be the first breakfast at home that I’ve had in a while. As I took my first bite of my peanut butter toast…

[Scratch, scratch]

What the…?

[Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch]

Why is it that everytime I try to enjoy some food of my own, the cat finds it a suitable time to take a shit? Any other time during the day I never see him in there, but as soon as I put anything edible in my hand there he is getting ready to drop a deuce! Seriously, I can do without the rather unpleasant dining fragrance!

But this was no ordinary crap! This was a steamy, ears-back shit that even a fly wouldn’t go near. Needless to say, the area was quite unstable so I ended up eating the rest of my breakfast outside before going to work. I knew there was a reason that I started skipping breakfast in the mornings. Thanks for the pleasant reminder, kitty.

Up until a few minutes ago I was confident that I was the victim of, perhaps, the greatest conspiracy of all time. It all started with myself, two cats, and a pair of nail clippers.

In this day and age, times are tough and nail clippers are hard to come by. Thus, my cats and I opted to share the one pair we have until another pair can be obtained. With that said and kitty-clipping day right around the corner, I came home to find the nail clippers gone. Yes, gone. Completely missing. Nowhere in sight.

I assembled a search team immediately. Comprised of me, myself, and I, the team scoured the vicinity for nearly 10 minutes with no luck of finding the missing clippers. I was left to face the fact that I may never see my precious clippers again, but I wasn’t about to give up yet.

I decided to consult the cats to see if they knew anything about the disappearance. It was a desperate attempt, but I was in a desperate position. I suspected their alibi for hiding the clippers was to avoid getting their claws trimmed. However, after minutes of intense interrogation, I came to the conclusion that they were not responsible for this unforgivable act. My investigation was at an impasse.

I was almost about to call the search team back when I noticed a metallic object glistening in my nightstand drawer. Could it be? It was.

The clippers were exactly where I had left them. Alas, I realized that I was not a victim of some radical conspiracy, rather, a victim of my own senility.

A craving for chocolate milk last night ended up with a trip to the store to pick up milk and chocolate syrup. Little did I know that this trip would forever change the way I feel about Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup…

[In the store]

As I reached for a bottle of syrup, I paused. Something wasn’t right. Something about these bottles was significantly different from the ones that I was used to. You know the kind — the ones with the push up cap that gets all gooey when you push it back down; the all-American Hershey’s Syrup bottle that is virtually impossible to squeeze chocolate out of when it gets too cold. Yeah, that’s the one. But the bottles on the shelf were…different.

A small, transparent piece of plastic with red lettering was affixed to the cap of each bottle. It advertised a ‘new & improved’, ‘no mess cap’ — probably another marketing scheme to encourage you to buy Hershey’s Syrup (but seriously, who doesn’t buy Hershey’s Syrup?). With no other options, except second-rate generic chocolate sauce, I chose the alien bottle. I carried it all the way to the milk cooler, all the way to the register, and all the way back home. It was an awkward drive, but I was determined to experience some good ol’ fashioned chocolate milk when I got home.

[At home, post-chocolate milk]

Now, to be honest, I don’t know how to feel about this. I am both heart-broken and ecstatic. Life is so much easier now with my new & improved, no-mess bottle of Hershey’s Syrup, and it’s much easier to squeeze the chocolate out…even when it’s cold! But I feel like a part of my childhood has been taken from me. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, change is good. I just hope that, one day, Hershey will come out with a retro-bottle of their world-famous syrup so my children’s children can see just how messy and hard it was for me to make chocolate milk back in the day.

Hey, it’s the small things that count.