But, consider that even if the poor bastards beat the odds and end up being born to eke out some sort of existence on the smoldering dirt you’ve left them—the chances are low that debt, as a concept, will matter at all anymore. No banker is going to attempt to repossess from a man gnawing on the roasted leg of a slightly under-seasoned CEO.

If you use canned vegans, there’s always bits of sandal that didn’t get processed out.

Lack of flavor because the meat’s too young and lean.

With fresh vegans, their big bleeding hearts make a mess in the kitchen.

You feel guilty eating them when you think about how they must have been raised.

The supply’s too scarce outside the big cities.

Still, God love ‘em, the vegans mean well. Trying to eliminate the agony caused to mammals raised in horrible conditions and tortured until the sweet release of slaughter day comes. These vegans have accepted the notion that humans are not the only animals that feel pain—and that pain hurts. If they ate some stuff to increase the fatty buildups in their arteries, they’d know first-hand what pain is. Right, Meatboy?

No matter which of these: TV, movie rentals, online piracy is how you get your actual home entertainment, nothing beats the pride of owning a DVD collection. Whether they remain smartly wrapped in their factory seal—or opened for that once in a lifetime viewing—having a few hundred plastic boxes stacked in the family room seems to be satisfying for most of you.

It seems that when you own a DVD, you’re saying something about the person you are and the types of movies you plan to watch someday. Or, it’s a way to remind yourself that you really enjoyed a particular movie the one time you saw it. Perhaps you don’t want to risk a clash between video rental hours and a late night craving to watch Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan.

So look at what’s missing from your DVD collection and start shopping (or ripping and burning), but hurry—we understand that DVDs will only be in use for another three or four years.

From what we’ve heard, from our roach brothers who hang around supermarkets (won’t say which because we know you can be squeamish about our presence), an awful lot of you seem surprised to find yourself shopping. By that, I mean at least half of you show up without any sort of container to bring back the things you buy. Luckily, the stores seem perfectly happy to give you one or more of their paper or plastic bags—as long as you deal with getting rid of it when you’re through with it a few minutes later.

Just remember that it’s as easy to throw two bags into the garbage, as it is one—so tell them to double-bag it! Unbelievably, there’s no additional cost.

But, if you’re tempted to bring your own cloth bag when you shop—well, you’re one of those then, aren’t you?

Pitch it in a bay.

If you live close to a bay (or any water) use it for your personal water bottle “recycling” program.

Stow it in a dumpster.

Dumpsters feed landfills and landfills feed global warming. A dumpster is a perfect place for your empties.

Leave it behind.

when you leave the bus, train or station—leave your bottle. The cleaning people will trash it for you.

Hurl it in the hedges.

If you like to visit parks (and who doesn’t), give that bottle a good lob into the bushes and it will be out of sight and out of mind.

Drop it on the street.

They’ve got big machines to sweep the streets in most cities. Why waste time looking for a recycling bin.

The old reliable trash can.

They’re everywhere—this prime feeder of the landfill. When you toss trash into a can, it’s as though you’re acting responsibly, without changing a thing.

What brown alternatives to recycling plastic bottles can you come up with?

You’re told to reduce your driving. But really, how often, since the nineteen twenties ended, do modern people go on pointless motoring trips? These aren’t novelty machines that dad tinkers with in the shed and the family piles into on Sunday for an “outing.” For the majority of you ape-people the point of driving a car is to get somewhere you want or need to be—hard to reduce anything there. Perhaps you should consider asking the paramedics to park their ambulance—just carry you to the hospital the next time your left arm goes numb.

Reduce your purchases. Ah, that seems to make sense. Instead of carelessly throwing your money around to buy computers, television sets or video games—spend your free time sitting in an empty room glaring at the other bored members of your family. For their next birthday, instead of jewelry or electronic gadgets, give your spouse a tree planted in their name. Explain to your dinner guests that a cup of boiled beans has the same protein content as a grilled rib eye steak with pepper and herb butter sauce. Tell your children they can’t have clothes to wear because the grown-ups are trying to save the planet—perhaps even bring it back to where you were all swinging through the branches and grazing off each other’s fleas.

No, the answer is not to start walking six or seven blocks to the store. You don’t need to stop buying pasta machines or bread makers to store at the back of your cabinets. You humans are a highly evolved and complicated species that require the exchange of your constant labor for meaningless objects. What would the point of your existence be without ankle bracelets, bobble-head dolls or cleverly engineered “food” providing zero calories of energy? If you’re concerned that your excesses will wipe the species out a few hundred-thousand years ahead of schedule, consider the words of the aptly named Beatles—”Let It Be.”

Have any worthless yet guilty pleasure products you can’t give up? If so, comment.