No, I’m not talking about some presumably terrible horror (thriller?) movie. Rather, I mean the
semi-annual completely random time at which I realized the product packaging dilemma in my apartment has gotten way out of hand. Not just a little out of hand but, you know, I’ve been waiting months to deal with this but I haven’t yet. And there’s a reason for that.
Because companies put so much extra shit in their packaging that I need to spend an ungodly amount of timing removing plastic and foam insert (even if they’re glued in), cutting out plastic windows, breaking down boxes, snipping fabric handles, removing magnets and for some ungodly reason cutout out metal fucking eyelets from sex toy boxes.
Listen, this isn’t my first rant about packaging. I don’t care how fancy your box is if it’s going to take up room and be difficult to dispose of, and I am downright angered when the toy inside is mostly a piece of shit that’s never going to do anything for me.
And I might be the only one, and maybe I make it harder for myself, but the way that boxes have become harder to recycle is downright creative.
So if you must, allow us to remove the foam and plastic. Use open windows, not plastic. Don’t embed anything, okay? If I need to attack it with a pair of scissors or box cutter and my god damn hands wind up hurting, I’ll wanna hurt you.
The shitty thing is that while I can read reviews and look at product photos on sites, assuming that packaging is shown, it’s impossible to know if something is embedded or glued in to avoid buying it. Sigh.
Whatever. I’ll live. It’s done with. For now.