|"We can hoop, coach. For realsies."|
So anyway, I have this thought. I think, "Dude. There should totally already be something called "Personalized Climate Zones" where you just have the kind of weather you want in your personal space all the time. If you want it to be 75 and sunny, you can press a button, BAM, you've got it. Anytime. Genius, right? Then I start thinking about how it can be done. You'd need to manipulate atoms and electrons and positrons and Decepticons and what not, swirl em all together, get some sort of high tech blow dryer to pump them all out of, and then get sort of a force field type thing to hold them all in. You'd of course need a way to get fresh air in, but hey, I'm not a scientist, let them figure it out.
On a side note, could we not make that force field have sort of an "anti-rape" setting? I'm really thinking that might help out the world a bit. You see? I should get the Nobel for this folks, and that's exactly what I was thinking when I figured this whole thing up. I was about halfway through my acceptance speech when I realized this:
"Warm moist air shoots upward meeting colder, dryer air. Warm moist air is lighter than the cold dry air making for a strong updraft within the thunderstorm. As the warm moist air rises, it may meet varying wind directions at different altitudes. If these varying winds are staggered in just the right manner with sufficient speed, they will act on the upward rising air, spinning it like a top." -taken from here
You see, say I liked it warm and moist. I think most men do. I'll leave that alone and just continue making my other point. I like it warm and moist. The Missus might like it cold and dry. (again, this is not in any way representative of our relationship) So we wake up in the morning and we go about our business, set up our climate zones, and then we decide to have a good-bye kiss before heading off to work. Let's say we get excited about this kiss and start running towards each other. I don't think my wife has ever been that excited about kissing me, but I imagine it might happen if I won the lottery. Anyway, she's running at me, I'm running at her, and then lets say I jump to meet her, she stays on the ground, and aside from all the damage to her person I'm going to do by landing on her, boom, we just made a tornado.
All our possessions gone, for the sake of one good-bye kiss. The neighbors would be beyond pissed I'm sure, and we'd be banished from towns forever. Especially small towns in Oklahoma, Nebraska, Kansas, Texas, both Dakotas, and Arkansas.
Also, what happens if SHE jumps? I'll catch her, sure, but what about the ensuing microburst? I can't afford new furniture, y'all. I'm saving up for an iPad. What if we're near a lake or ocean when our excited yet deadly embrace of passion takes place? That's a hurricane. At the very least, we'd cause some sort of thunderstorm, and someone in the room would get struck by lightning, and that's not a good way to make and/or keep friends.
Then you have to go on and try to figure out all the other natural disasters that occur from two opposite or same climates hitting each other. What if Kid Funk liked it rainy and I liked windy? If we ever met up for a game of golf, we'd be ostracized from the golfing community faster than someone not as talented as Tiger cheating on his wife. What if we both liked it rainy? That's a tidal wave, and in all seriousness, I think we've learned from Indonesia that those are really bad. Was it Indonesia or India? Or was it Haiti? That was an earthquake I think. All I know is that I texted about $600 worth of donations to something or other completely by accident. "Hello, customer service? Yeah, I need to take some of that money back and apply to my bill instead...yeah, I'm aware that I'm an ass."
The moral of the story here folks is that I should never be allowed to invent anything at all. Ever. So if I come to you with an idea for anything at all, just give me a hug, pat me on the back lovingly and tell me that you love me and everything will be alright. I might act mad at first, I may even squeeze too hard on the hug, but at least we hugged without sending the state we're in running to the White House with cries of needing emergency funding.
|"Hello, FEMA? Yeah, we've got this problem down here...I hugged someone."|
And that's the story of most of my mornings, and may or may not be the cause of why I'm constantly late for work.
P.S. Stacy, if you're reading this, I'm NEVER late for work. Ever. I exaggerate for the fans. Swear. Please stop reading.
P.P.S. If you're a fan, I'm late for work almost always. I have to tell my boss I'm not so I can keep my job. Swear.