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6:01 a.m. - 2007-02-20


I was cooking dinner last night (kielbasa with onions and peppers ... wayyyy too rich ... I STILL feel bloated and ill), when I was reminded of one of the things that I despise over everything else.

I hate this thing worse than the feeling you get when you're absentmindedly tapping a pencil against your front teeth and the metal part that holds the eraser somehow manages to get in on the action and you chip a tooth.

I hate it more than the powerless feeling you get when a gun is shoved in your face and you're told to "hand over your wallet" and you realize you left your wallet at home on your desk and you have nothing to give the robber as you're preparing yourself for an extended round of pistol whipping.

I hate it worse than Corey Feldman.

And that thing is ... the little metal spout on the side of Morton's salt containers.

You can also find the cousin of this little spout on the side of dishwashing detergent boxes.

First off ... who thought metal and cardboard would be a good idea together?

Because ... and here's a news flash Wally ... it ain't.

First, you have to pry the goddamned thing open, usually using your fingernail.

Which means you have to drive your fingernail between the metal and the cardboard, forming a wedge between the two.

So you now have a sharp metal object under your fingernail.

This is considered torture in some Asian countries. You know ... if it were bamboo and not metal.

Then it's time to start pulling downwards.

Now, in the back of MY mind, I always expect the metal to be stuck and for me to try to pull downwards but instead I have totally ripped my fingernail off and it's landed on the table in a ripped bloody mess.

And to add insult to injury, there's an 80% chance you're literally going to be adding salt to the wound at that point.

That has never happened to me to the best of my knowledge.

But I ain't dead yet so it could still happen eventually.

I think what I hate most about the salt spout is the sound it makes when you finally get it open.

I would take a thousand fingernails down a blackboard over that sound. That little metallic pop as metal is raked across cardboard.

It's like ... Satan's fart.

I swear to you ... it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not curl up into a fetal position on the kitchen floor every time I have to refill the salt shaker.

Opening the salt spout gives me a more uncomfortable feeling than losing control of my bowels during a church service. Loudly.

Therefore, rather than bitch about the situation anymore (which is my usual kneejerk reaction to everything), I've decided to invent a new spout that will work in conjunction with the cardboard salt container and not get on my nerves so much.

It's called "The Same Goddamned Thing That Baking Soda Boxes And Cornstarch Boxes Use ... Just Punch In A Hole At The Top Of The Side Of The Box, Lift It Up A Bit And Pour The Shit Out And Then Shove That Part Of The Box Back Into The Hole And Nobody Gets Hurt. Quit Acting Like You're Better Than Every Other Spice And Condiment, Salt!"

It's gonna sell like hotcakes, Junior!

You just betcha!

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