Paddle Your Own Canoe: One Man's Principles for Delicious Living

by Nick Offerman

We’re all complicit here, holding hands, or linking arms, rather, so we can look at Twitter whilst huddled together in our handbasket, barreling straight to hell.

Because I find that the greater the ease with which such bounty is purchased, at least in my case, the less the significance the giving of it contains.

As a member of a race of animals who are blithely burning through the natural resources of their beautiful planet, laughing their faces off like beer commercial models as they careen across the water on their Jet Skis, I am pretty well put off by the amount of attention we monkeys can bestow upon things like bang length and pleated fronts and skirt size and shawl collars. I can comprehend why I need brown shoes and belt for some suits and black for others. I comprehend it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Therein lies the rub, methinks, that we as a people have been made to believe that we need to look like these “foxy” people on billboards and bus posters in order to appear “beautiful” and thereby find happiness.

Pockets are a must, for the storing of your necessaries. Knife, money, tobacco, frogs, string, marbles, bullets.

I am amazed that I am the partner to such a bright and shining powerhouse of entertainment.