Yes, please. I’d like one.
Straws. It’s the little things. I like ’em. Straight, bendy, paper, plastic, clear, with stripes, loose or sealed in paper sleeves. I think I like straws now more than ever. Not to say I haven’t always liked straws – I don’t ever recall not accepting a straw when offered one. My affection with straws is probably now rooted in being a mustache person. I have a thick Sam Elliott mustache. Only mustache wearers know of the constant cleaning required. Straws bypass mustaches completely and deliver the goods directly inside your head. Straws are the last great American value. Have you priced straws lately? You can get straws in bulk for less than one cent each. Straws also make great drink stirrers, and spit wad launchers. There is nothing holding you back from obtaining your own straw supply, and enjoying straws more often. Straw technology hasn’t changed much since their debut in 1888 – before that people sucked on rye reeds. This is testimony to the ingenious contraption that it is. Go the whole way, get straws and a cool straw dispenser – and light up the lives of the people you love with this simple gesture. Life is too short to suffer being hit in the nose with ice from a raised glass even one more time. Maybe I haven’t convinced you yet. You are too close minded. I’ll not offer you one then – nor will I offer you anything to drink.