Krudler

deleted by creator

Don’t be that smart ass that thinks he’s cool and guarding some super secret information, and he only speaks in riddles and leading questions.

Everybody knows where that plastic went.

I’ve ranted in various places over the years but it’s 100% true in my city in Canada.

Decades ago we built a massive publicly-funded recycling system because the City could actually draw profit from the collection and sale of materials.

But about 15 years ago China stopped buying the waste, and it became a new shell-game of collecting the material but literally unable to do anything with it or sell it, so any that does get sold mostly ends up in the down-stream recycling economy, where the bulk of it ends up being burned. The rest goes into the regular old landfill. Even waste cardboard has no value anymore.

People who separate recycling in our city now, are just pre-sorting it for the waste management company and keeping it out of their regular waste (profit) stream.

We do have our ewaste centers but knowing people that work there, I can say anecdotally I’ve been informed that the metal and rare metal waste is collected and sent for processing in Ontario, the rest of the bits (all the plastic which is 90% of eWaste) goes into the regular waste stream where it’s buried or burned, but never recycled.

Notice how Pepsi and Coke don’t use recycled plastic? If that doesn’t condemn the whole recycling “meme” as a sham, I don’t know what would.

Yeah well only a shit cook would think that oil coming off means bad meat.

I know that people don’t know fuck all about cooking, yourself included.

Throwing away animal fat and oil is failing at cooking

It is inarguable that anything but twist/tuck is ok. Bread box is a whimsical idea from when material science was advanced enough to make horseshoes. Everything else either requires more plastic/steps or wrecks the bread.

There’s really no argument here.

Not so much the spelling, just… I went to school with a girl who’s father fled the law and they ended up near us in Canada… they were originally from a trailer park in Tennessee

Her name was “Dollarina”

I had to laugh at this. I do a lot of hobby electronics repair and yeah, these pieces of dog shit are all over our local “collector” “vintage” and “retro” boards. Yeah imma give you $80 for your Sears cardboard box that’s also water stained, and even when it was new had incorrect and also non-adjustable platter speed /s

I just want to talk.

I made it big. Huge. Motherfucking huge. I bought and paid off my house in 2 years, was taking 5 major trips a year, had all the bullshit.

Wasn’t ever a materialist and was frugal, not cheap. Tried to take the lessons of my grandfather who grew up in the depression with literally nothing, and where he taught me over many years that everything is priceless and worthless at the same time. He was 1000x the father to me than my booze-bag sperm-donator male called my “dad”.

That piece of wire on the ground might save your life. It might just be another piece of shit. One day you go and buy some wire for $11 because you need it, other times you walk past $11 of free wire laying there because you have no immediate need or want for it. I was too spoiled and precious to get it. I want my meat packaged on a Styrofoam tray and there needs to be cartoons on things. No you shouldn’t make me a home made metal detector out of a broken FM radio, lacquered wire and a 9V battery because then I won’t be cool.

Through my life and path, I discovered no matter how much material stuff, no matter how lovely the accouterments of my life, no matter how many “freedoms” and experiences I had stemming from my financial wherewithal, there was an underlying thing at the core, the kernel of my being, that had been neglected my whole life. For I was never taught to see it and know it. I hated myself and hated my life and refused to look through the telescope to see that.

I didn’t really find any of this out until I had a humiliation that provoked the beginning of my thoughts of personal transformation. I later heard Miles’ Kind of Blue for the first time, by myself, in a separate bed from my pill-popping wine-guzzling wife, wearing Bluetooth headphones. I had smoked a grain of cannabis, my first return to it in about 20 years. Something touched me and I cried. One photon of light hit me somewhere and I couldn’t unsee it.

I later arrested my rage-drinking, or demon-drinking as I sometimes say. When the magical fairy wand didn’t dispense the fairy dust on my life and render everything into utopia, I intuited my power-drinking was a mere behavior and really had effectively nothing to do with the underlying issue. Or perhaps it did in the same sense that water in a boat isn’t the issue, it’s the rotted holes and splits in the hull.

I aimed myself at discovery and self-transformation and opened myself to anything from which I could take something useful and apply it to my own perspective. After getting into 5 years of heavy therapy which I pursued with vigor, something happened. I connected to that thing that I didn’t know existed.

My life exploded, I effectively went insane, but not insane enough to lose sight of that photon. I lost everything because I was not able to care for myself. I ballooned to 135kg.

I had $280,000 in my chequing account at one point, 100K of random investments, and I was living in my car and eating at shelter. I was fucked.

Anyhow.

Now my shit is together. I have 1BR apartment and I will never ask or take more. I refuse. I pull things out of dumpsters, clean them, use what I can and give away the rest. I repair electronics and sell them to survive in part. My community is Harkness Station, a bus shelter in the freezing cold snowbank called Winnipeg, where people live - many suffering addiction and abandoned by humanity. These are my friends and I bring them home-cooked food, water, tea, sugar-laden 3am coffee, hygiene, relief of all sorts. My friend Alex who did 4 years hard time for an armed-robbery he set-up, spoke to me about getting sober 2 days ago. He’s heard my story but I’ve never heard those words on his lips before.

Hear what I’m saying please.

I got an inheritance from my sperm-donors estate and gave it away. There were more than 5 zeroes digits on it.

I am moving to Zen. All of the problems in my life are my own creation.

My grandfather gave me something priceless. My new community at Harkness showed me you can live with nothing.

We put all of this together and I can say with confidence I’ll live in a car (which I don’t have anymore because I gave it away), eat at the “missions” and be happy as a motherfucker. Whatever bro. I’m happy inside, I can care for me, and I need nothing but basic elements of mechanical survival. edit: How silly of me. I forgot the most important thing of all, perhaps so intuitive to me it needed not be said, but I think it should be said. I also need the love of humanity and connection to community for we are all one. And where I have no community I will make one because I also need that.