Toothpaste tube lids. Yes, toothpaste tube lids. They are an indication of what is wrong with Brazil.
Shown above is the standard flip-top style lid, which has been around for at least a decade. More hygienic, less hassle, better all around than the old-fashioned screw-on top. Only...
Only the flip-top lid is not used in Brazil, by any toothpaste company! WTF! Nobody can be bothered to invest in this upgrade, and apparently no consumers here care enough to demand it. Or maybe they are not listened to by the people in power.
It is only a small thing, but it is sadly emblematic of the stagnation which rules here.
Proactive, dynamic, thrusting - if you want a paradigm shift for your next-gen business, then think outside the box, and hit the ground running with me. If, on the other hand, you are not looking for a new employee but are just spending some quality time browsing, then this is the rugby blog for you!
Choose Rugby
CHOOSE RUGBY.
Choose a club. Choose a team. Choose a family. Choose a f*cking big prop; choose jumpers, tactics, big mean forwards and lightning fast backs. Choose good health, low blows, and dental insurance. Choose fixed stares and intimidating hakas. Choose a starting line-up. Choose a top-end scrum machine on hire purchase in a range of f*cking colours. Choose ICU and wondering where the f*ck you've woken up on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that icecold bench watching mind-numbing, spirit-enriching live matches, stuffing f*ucking cold pies into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of the night, pishing your last in a miserable outhouse, nothing less than a legend to the selfish, f*cked-up brats you trained to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose Rugby.
ESCOLHA RUGBY.
Escolha Rugby. Escolha um clube. Escolha um time. Escolha uma familia. Escolha um prop do c*ralho; escolha segunda-linhas, táticas, grandes e crueis forwards, e rápidos backs. Escolha uma boa saúde, golpes baixos, e o plano dental. Escolha olhares fixos e hakas intimidantes.
Escolha um ponto de partida line-up. Escolha seus amigos. Escolha agasalho e kitbags combinando. Escolha uma máquina potente de scrum comprada ou de alugada em uma gama de cores do c*ralho. Escolha UTI e se perguntando onde diabos você acordou numa manhã de domingo. Escolha sentar naquele banco assistindo entorpecido mentalmente, com espírito enriquecedor aos jogos ao vivo, estufando de tortas frias do c*ralho em sua boca. Escolha apodrecer no final da noite, xingando seu passado em uma casinha miserável, nada mais do que uma lenda para os egoístas, pirralhos f*dido você treinou para substitui-lo. Escolha o seu futuro. Escolha Rugby.
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