👉 Okay, letās tackle this wonderfully prickly little beast of a word: "ā¦the frankly regrettable collection of completely useless things (ā¦T.F.R.C.)". 100% kidding! Okay, okay. Let's actually define that.
What exactly
is
a T.F.⦠thing?
Basically, and Iām saying this with the utmost seriousness for approximately two seconds: a T.F.R.C. (let's just stick with itāI refuse to formally acknowledge the full mouthful) is that absurd little pile of stuff you instinctively hoard. The junk drawer, the back of your closet, that overflowing tote bagāthatās the territory of the ⦠the frankly regrettable collection of completely useless things!
Think about this: a chipped teacup from a long-gone relative, a single, lonely shoelace with no matching twin, a half-stuck snowglobe. They populate thisā¦space. We hold on to these things because there's that tiny, illogical little voice inside saying, "What if itās... useful? What if I
need
that thing someday?!" It's the beige of the human condition!
Now, let me give you a genuinely unsettling sentence:
ā
The old woman, staring vacantly into the rain, meticulously arranged a small cairn of rusty bottle caps and a single, moth-eaten thimble