Well from reading the above I can see I have some serious flaws in my knife dudeness but here's one :
When you are done with a cracker box because you just ate the last of the crackers so you whip out which ever totally awesome, multi hundred dollar, hair whittlingly sharp, brutally strong blade lock equipped, multi heat treated, highly corrosion resistant, split second deployable scary to be hold by "normal" people sharp thing, that you are carrying today, that you wouldn't be caught without even though you are sitting there in your jim jams . . .
just to cut the bottom of the box so you can fold it flat so it doesn't take up as much room in the trash or recycle bin and don't care that out of the corner of your eye you can see, as you always do, that your significant other is shaking their head and thinking : "I could have just pulled the flap open with my fingers and folded the box flat in half the time, with out going through all of THAT".
But some how, you know that she knows, that you know, that she knows . . . that you would feel . . .
. . . that life would be incomplete and some how less satisfying without all of "THAT".