I like hanging from the ceiling as much as the next guy, but he really needs a better system.
Suction cups were all the rage for quite a while, but like everything else I adore, they seem to have gone out of style. I assume the sickening fart and pop every time you moved a limb was just too much for people, but I didn’t mind at all. Suction cups were effective, darn it. Just because you turn into a giant, annoying, raspberry machine doesn’t mean the cups weren’t working. On the contrary, the juicier the sound the suction cups made, the more securely you were fastened to the wall.
The real question is: how am I supposed to fly to Las Vegas, scale the side of the Fontainebleau building, break in through a side window using only a piece of string and a slice of lemon, evade security using only my wits, deactivate several silent alarms, hack into the mainframe for poops and giggles and plant a virus in their computer system, abseil into the main gallery to avoid a thin layer of laser traps across the floor, steal the world’s third largest crystal geode, escape, and romance several down-and-out super models using magnets? I’d be shot on sight trying to get through airport security wearing those silly magnet shoes. At least with suction cups you can lie and say there’s something wrong with you, and you need to apply suction to various parts of you body or you’ll die. Try doing that with magnets, smart guy.
I don’t like to brag, but I’ve met a girl before. Talked to her and everything. I’ve seen many more while out and about, but the restraining orders keep upping the yardage I’m required to keep between me and them, which makes conversation difficult. I’ve even heard rumors from my dad that mom used to be a girl before she was a mom. Anyway, maybe it’s just me, but I’m fairly sure that many women can cut a tomato without a trip to the emergency room. They seem to be able to iron a garment without burning down the house. Several of them have boiled pasta without incident. A solid plurality of the girls in my life have been able to operate both pillows and blankets. As a matter of fact, they seem to be able to operate blankets a little too well on cold nights.
Anyway, I wish I could have met some of the women in this infomercial compilation instead of the ones I always encountered. Maybe they would have actually gone for my pickup lines.
That’s not to say their jobs are picnics, although you do have to eat sandwiches out in the open every day. Those gents are wearing hardhats and safety vests for a reason. For real men, jobs are jobs. You trade your sweat for some lucre. You’re not “passionate” about it, whatever that means. You’d do something easier if it was on offer, but increased difficulty translates into increased wages. And a piece of those wages gets you into a club on the weekend to show off your TikTok dance routine. In the meantime, your mates are a little tired, and dirty, and could use a little laugh to make the day go by faster. No sweat.
I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be inside a screaming metal deathtrap. I was expecting more of a 2001 A Space Odyssey sort of thing where you can watch yourself turn into a giant freaky space baby, so I’m a bit disappointed. There was a distinct lack of space babies in this video and way too much salt for my liking.
The driver seems to be okay. I saw bits of him moving after the crash, but whether or not those bits are attached to anything important is anyone’s guess.