these things. It's a way of advancing my status as a world record breaker. You might not see the logic in this, but I certainly do. If I could succeed at this, I wondered, how much more recognition would I receive from those who admire world record achievements? I wasn't sure, but because I'm obsessed with world record-breaking, I began to plan my one-man event anyhow. I needed dried peas. I needed a terracotta pot with a hole in the bottom. I also needed a plate and, of course, I needed a straw. The latter would be no issue at all. There are always straws at arm's length from me in my house. The plate? That was simply a matter of reaching across the kitchen area and selecting one. I scouted around my garden and in several of the neighbours' for pots. With a little effort, I found one, saw nobody watching, and turned it upside-down to empty it of earth. Once I'd washed the pot out, I set off on an investigative journey to that jungle-like storehouse full of edible goods: my local supermarket. That made me think what a pity it is that where I get my food is not a true jungle -- full of pristine nature, free of litter and industry. The man-made jungle I was in, lined with aisles of preserved foods, is made possible by bad processes like stealing things from the few natural jungles which survive. In business, that's called using natural resources