Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Random Thoughts

Last night I was sitting at the computer. I glanced at the clock. It was 11:15, the usual time I wake Sunny up so she can get ready for work.

I walked down the hallway. I popped my head around the door:

“Sweetie?” I ventured”
“Mmm, hmmm?” Came the reply.
“It’s quarter past.”
“Ok, give me five more minutes.”

Suddenly my mind started racing. How can one person ‘give’ five minutes, or any finite amount of time to another individual? Surely time is just the fourth dimension of our physical universe. How can one human being, a being tied up inexorably in this fourth dimension gift time to another? That’s impossible! It would be like attempting to give another person more height width or time.

Then I remembered Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, the basis of which is time dilation as a body’s speed increases. The faster you go, the slower time becomes from your perspective.

I started to think of ways to accelerate the missus to an appreciable portion of the speed of light…

Then I realized I was just being stupid, so I said “Ok.”

Yesterday, Sunny and I were making Jelly (That’s jam without the fruit, not what these misguided Americans call Jell-o).

As Sunny was preparing things, I was setting up the new printer. Suddenly I heard the following exclamation:

“Ohhhhhhh! GROSS! Uggghhhh!”

Hit by the sudden understanding that my gastric safety probably depended entirely on me staying clear of the kitchen, I stayed put. I could always pretend not to have heard anything. However, the outbursts continued:

“Urrrrgh! Sick! Ugggghhh! That’s disgusting!”

Finally, curiosity got the better of me. As I left the living room, the smell, that can be conservatively referred to as ‘rotten eggs mixed with freshly burnt ass-hair’ assaulted my nostrils.

“What smells like ass?” I asked.

The story…was not a pleasant one.

Looking for a particular, and seldom used, cooking implement, Sunny discovered a sealed container in one of the cupboards.

We have no idea how long those potatoes were sealed in there, but it was long enough to convert most of them to liquid. I thought the smell was bad, until I discovered that Sunny had simply opened our utility cupboard, dropped the container whole into the trash, and closed the door.

As I opened the door, and grabbed the garbage bag, let’s just say that I got the original, unadulterated odor.

As I dropped the bag and ran from the room, retching and hoping a few lungfuls of clean air might stop me from being sick, I was struck by a thought:

“Huh…Now I know what Hell smells like.”

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