Thoughts of submarines and how they could function as a pratical mode of transportation and could double up as a bachelor’s pad…
As I made ready for work this morning, I caught Tata staring into endless space. I thought at first that he had fallen asleep with his eyes still open, as he was wont to do in the early mornings when I insist that he should be awake also while I am puttering around the house before I get out into the cold, purple world to work.
But he winked and smiled, very much awake. So there goes being featured in Ripley’s Believe it or Not.
Anyway, if this drivel must move along, Ta shared his morning thoughts.
Submarines. Ta thinks they’re the best conveyances. Can’t crash land, can’t collide with other moving objects [not counting the blue whales and giant squids], and could serve as a home anywhere the owner is around the globe. I brought up the problem of fuel cost if indeed a submarine was to be had and used to its fullest potential. Ta smiled. His solution: hire the sub as chauffer service, much like those limos prowling on the streets of Hollywood. [Colombian drug lords, here’s your chance]. When I left for work, Ta was still mulling over the pros and cons of submarine lifestyle. Should tell him soon that I have mild claustrophobia, in case subs could finally be had in a 24-month easy installment plan?
Drove down in the cold dawn, still half asleep. Met Wimpykitty, who was supposed to be driven down by her sis to work, on the way and she changed rides from her sister’s to mine. Had a pleasant conversation with her, dissing our place of work. By the time we arrived in the office, ten minutes early, we were prepped up to do our best grousing work for the day.
As my mood has greatly improved compared to yesterday’s, I’ve changed this blog’s theme to the original which I liked so much. ~sigh~ So much for the experimentation.
Note to self: check out if subs are in e-bay in my lunchtime