Welcome to another late-late edition of thought train Thursday. Topics this week are quite eclectic, as has become the norm.

Lead with Creed

After writing my With Arms Wide Open music video appreciation blog, I decided to pay weekly homage to Creed. The band is a national treasure; the character is arguably my favorite in all of television. Check back next week to see which Creed is featured.

What would you call this stuff? 

There are over 150,000 words in the English language, but not one of them adequately describes the gunk that collects at the end of soap/lotion pumps. You know what I’m talking about.

nameless

Now, that image is lacking that ball of goup that I am referring to. Surprisingly enough, a search for ‘dried soap at end of pump’ does not yield the best results. If there is a word for the plastic things that keep our shoelaces from fraying, there should be a word for this gunk. Let’s raise awareness for the cause. Do me a favor and write a letter to Merriam-Webster.

Relationships 101 

I recently had a waitress with a tattoo of a man’s name near her shoulder blade. She was a very friendly lady and I tipped her accordingly. It got me thinking though. What is the success rate of relationships in which one person (or both people) get the other’s name tattooed on themselves? I am a huge fan of obscure statistics, and this one may just take the cake.

(Not) Time to downsize

So I mentioned last week that I don’t have cable. One might surmise that I am well on my way to living a minimalist lifestyle. I even thought so at one point. After living in dorms for the first 2 years of college, I did not see much point in maintaining a living space fraught with unused rooms.

Anyways, part of my lack of cable means that I’ll watch pretty much anything whenever I plop down in front of a TV. When I’m at my girlfriend’s place – since I have no control of the remote (even though it’s my TV) – HGTV is king. I have watched far more HGTV in six months than would be expected for a midwestern male in the 18-25 demographic. Heck, I even have a favorite show: Tiny House Nation/Hunters.

I was hooked almost immediately. I am not one of those weirdos who records episodes and religiously watches each week, but tiny house shows have taken precedence over some damn good movies when scrolling the channel guide. I’d like to chalk this up to my girlfriend and her roommate. However, their disdain for watching sports has influenced me more than I’m comfortable with. One day I’m getting in shouting matches about keeping a blowout SEC championship game on TV during a white elephant party. Now I’m requesting they change the channel from Alaskan Bush People to Tiny House Nation. I will let you decide what that says about me.

As a result, I had the supposedly brilliant idea to start a company where I rent tiny houses out to college students during the year. Unfortunately for me, there are some gaping holes in this plan. First off, Creighton is located in the heart of the city. Oddly enough, these large buildings that rent housing units to college-aged tenants keep sprouting up here and there. Who could have predicted that college kids want to live in close proximity to each other and the university? These well-equipped buildings have fancy amenities like ‘central air’, ‘indoor plumbing’, ‘in-unit washer/dryer combos’, and ‘views of the city’. Sounds too good to be true…

Secondly, it seems to me that having a tiny house can be likened to being a vegan or doing crossfit in the sense that people would weasel the fact that they “live tiny” in every conversation. I could not sleep peacefully at night knowing that I created a new wave of pretentious and impressionable young minds.

photo credit: Rusty Russ The Pink House via photopin (license)

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