I recently came to the realization that most of us in our intrepid little group hate cold water. Yet somehow here we are with the clock ticking away until the day we fling ourselves into the frigid San Francisco Bay. Near Alcatraz. Legendary for being impossible to escape from. Welcome to the brain trust.
Now, the first question that comes to mind is, just what kind of idiots are we anyway? Because it doesn’t pay to ponder that too closely, we quickly move on to trying to think up a plan. Clearly, wetsuits are in order, and that’s a work in progress. Then there’s that whole “work out” thing, whereby we’d actually train for this and thus get done with the swim faster. I know, crazy talk. Besides, I really don’t want to deviate from my plan, i.e. “The Thighmaster Route to Kona.” There’s just so much exercise a girl can be expected to do in one day.
As far as other plans, my fellow compatriots are lying in bed every morning staring at the ceiling, paralyzed by fear, trying to shake off the remnants of those dreams about water and more water, sinking into its icy cold blue depths…….well, except for Max, of course, who’s Russian and therefore impervious to weather shifts. He has to deal with other issues, like breaking the ice from his little section of Lake Michigan for swimming purposes, cursing those lazy, goldbricking Park District workers for not doing it for them. “Svolochi! Ya eem pokazhoo gdye raki zimooyoot!” Poor Max. Then there’s another one of our group, who slumbers secure in the delusi…umm, the certainty that, just as he’s seen on Baywatch over and over (and over), a bootylicious Eva Mendez-like babe (or perhaps Eva herself!) will be the one to rescue his gasping, flailing waterlogged self.
Oh god, sometimes it hurts to laugh so hard.
Anyway, clearly it’s up to me to come up with something to save our sorry asses, and while I don’t want to say that I’m working on something, well, I’m working on something. It’s my super top-secret spaceheater modulator (will post the specs later!), which when activated, will create a thermonuclear reaction that….oh, but I don’t want to get all technical here. Suffice it to say that I’m excited that I’ll finally, finally(!) get a chance to haul out that dusty old highly-reinforced triple-thickness titanium box of isotopes, left over from my dad’s days as a nuclear chemist, and put them to good use. Cs-137, your day in the sun has arrived…..