prose on shampoo bottles?

[Alice Cullen]

OOC / open. I get muse in weird places.
It's like sorting daily mail
where there's never room to fail
and one day I think I'll open fire.

Whoever said the prose on shampoo bottles was boring was an idiot. This was exciting stuff. Volumizing. Moisturizing. Replenishing. Was volumizing even a word, or was it one of those scams made up by corporate officials who were too lazy to hire a decent advertising company? And then the whole thing was purple. Purple was nice. Purple was interesting. Purple was one of those underused colors. And look, it even had a nice little graphic of a raindrop, or a tear drop, or a little gnome head. Or whatever.

Yeah. Shampoo bottles were horribly boring. So Alice chucked her empty one at the wall, cringing at the sizable dent and leaving it on the floor, much to the Environmental Protection Agency's ultimate annoyance. Or at least, to what Alice figured their annoyance could potentially be. But really, they were as boring as conditioner bottles, which were decidedly more or less averagely as exciting as shampoo bottles. And now she was mentally rambling about the stupidest stuff. "I'm BORED," she announced to no one in particular, before remembering one last thing she hadn't done. "Oh, yeah, and it's GOING TO RAIN. Brilliance. Ugh." Life as a weather reporter in, say, the Sahara was nearly as exciting. And that wasn't saying crap. God, sometimes a potential life in Colorado seemed so - heavenly. There was a lot more to do than play baseball, after all.

So instead, she clomped down the stairs, flung open the door to the always empty pantry (god, she couldn't even make a salad, in case Bella wandered by complaining of lack-of-iceberg. A condition that one would never find here. The pantry so wasn't empty. There was a lot of lettuce in there) and returned bored, naturally. And thirsty. Her eyes were vaguely reminiscent of Frosty the Snowman - mostly the coal part. Which probably wasn't good.

Frosty and plank-like (get it? bored) and reduced to awful puns that would make even that science teacher at the high school cringe, she pranced over to the couch and flopped onto it in a way that actually probably wouldn't be described as graceful. They'd be home soon, probably, and then it would be the same deal. Piano. Chess. Hunting. Et cetera. Nothing. Remotely. Exciting. Sort of like the gnome head on the shampoo bottle - worth pondering for about ten seconds and then throwing away as an anomaly. Oh, right, recycling. Yeah. Someone had better get home soon.