Canter Bridge

A dirty little secret stains the neat homes that lurk behind the tree-lined streets and across the manicured lawns of suburbia: those little nail clippers you picked up at the Walgreens for $3.99 will never cut through a man’s gnarled, oaken toe nails.

They’ll make little cuts in it, they’ll promise and fail to deliver, they’ll even break apart in ashen resignation to the formidable power of the nail.

Those cheap little metal gizmos were made to sell on promise alone. You need a nail clipper that was not designed by the bean counters and the marketing wizards, but by the car guys … I mean … the toenail engineers.

That would be the Seki Edge. (more…)

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There’s something just a bit rich about a middle-aged pencil-pusher like me choosing to open his junk mail and electric bill with a little sword.

But hey, we don’t get to do much hunting and gathering any more, so toss us a bone. A little bellicose letter-opening never turned anyone into a real-life axe-murderer.
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