Paper-wrapped, waxy goodness.

Have I ever told you how seriously I take crayons? Probably not. Here goes: I fucking love Binney-Smith and their glorious little sticks of waxy creativity. We're talking about Crayola God damned crayons.  We make pilgrimage to their giant-ass factory in Easton, PA at least twice a year, and it is worth every penny of admission. The original. Unequalled.

If you're an adult who does not wax (heh) nostalgic at the whiff of a freshly opened box of Crayolas, become inspired by the very names of the colors or get giddy and smile at the sight of that big honkin' green-and-yellow box (64 colors, with built-in sharpener!), then get the fuck off my sidebar, because you have no fucking soul.

Crayons retain their magic, no matter how old you are. Want to liven up a party? Throw out some butcher paper, a few coloring books and several boxes of crayons. Adults and children alike will gravitate, and eventually, you will see an 80-year-old Gramma drawing flowers next to a 4-year-old drawing robots across from the twins coloring in their "Scooby Doo" books. No one can resist the call of the crayon; it transcends age, race, and language. Crayons are an Objective Good; a universal uniter.

Want to creatively enhance a room? Do what Dino did: leave a basket of crayons on the toilet tank and let your guests know that they can gleefully deface and graffiti up your potty walls. You're providing a creative outlet AND reading material for your guests! It rocks! (My contributions are varied, but I like the ceiling piece the best.)

I'd be willing to bet that if you laid a shit-tonne of paper and crayons at a G-8 meeting, a UN Security Council meeting, or Congressional gathering, you would see more Shit Getting Done, because no one can be a crab-ass, contentious motherfucker with a fistful of crayons.

They need to be real Crayolas though. Don't cheap out and buy the weak-sauce, pale imitations like RoseArt or other generic crap. God, I hate cheap-ass, shitty crayons. They lack style and substance. Their labels are boring and their color names lack originality; they are too waxy and they leave a pale, pussified streak of color on the page. If you buy crap crayons, there's a seat reserved for you on Hell's Amtrak, and guess what? It's probably in the cigar car.

That's right, I said it: you'll smoke a turd in Hell for buying cut-rate crayons.

Go out and buy s box for yourself today. Grab some good paper, as well, and maybe a coloring book. Indulge yourself in the sheer potential that an unopened box of crayons and a fresh pad of paper contain.

Then go out and buy a couple of boxes of the good shit for Donors Choose, your local church or even your local food bank.