Last December, I posted about how much I hate snail mail, how the simple act of opening a few letters can send my day catapulting into a dismal hell. Well, my sense of dread over snail mail comes from more than just the economic bad news that surely awaits me. It has to do with the awareness that I will spend an obscene amount of time ripping up all the crap that has my name, address, and other personal information printed on it. I resent the hell out of having to do it. I didn't want the mail in the first place, and I have to waste my time tearing it up? What kind of BS is that?

Well all that has changed. Yes, we have a new understanding, snail mail and me. Snail mail now understands that I have the ability to shred it to little bits faster than it can say 'identity theft.' I have a new weapon, and it goes by the name of 'Paper Shredder.' Not a unique name, mind you, but very . . . descriptive. This thing does indeed shred papers. And it isn't one of those cheap-ass, two-sheets-at-a-time numbers. This baby can take eight pages of junk mail into its tummy in one eye-opening gulp. I now send credit card offers, unopened, through its unforgiving jaws. It even has a separate slot for actual plastic credit cards, which it hungrily devours like so many potato chips. What of staples, you wonder? Go on, send it through, man. A mere staple is little more than an annoying bug for this puppy. It's got an appetite, I tell you. And my prayers go out to anybody who stands between it and its papery vittles. The amazing part is that, even with all that eating, this shredder still minds its manners. Never so much as a burp, belch, or a little spittle. It makes me so proud.

Thanks to Paper Shredder, I've reclaimed my domain over snail mail. I now anxiously await the ceremonial opening of the mail, er . . . feeding of The Shredder. I almost tingle with anticipation.


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