Water is water, that’s what I always say.
Talk to forensic scientists or homicide detectives and they’ll tell you that a man can drown in a foot of water. Talk to lifeguards and they’ll tell you they’ve seen beach-dwellers drown by drinking a can of soda too fast. Talk to the brave members of the United States Coast Guard and they’ll tell you that water is the most evil element on the face of the Earth. That’s why, as summer approaches, people need to be very careful with those blow-up kiddie pools.
Thankfully, I could be your kiddie pool lifeguard.
Here’s the scenario, hotshot.
You go in for a reasonably complicated but typical surgery. You’re having your appendix removed. Or having a heart-valve cleaned out. Having knee surgery or an ear-canal restructuring. You’re going in for a prostate thingie or having some work done that you’d rather not talk about (although I’d probably not talk about the prostate thing either). But no matter the surgery, they’re going to put you under. And once you’re under, you want to wake up as quickly as you possibly can when all is said and done.
That’s where I could come in, being your surgery waker-upper trainer.
I could be a triple-threat ailment acquirerer.
That would mean that I would have three ailments that I’d acquired in life that, combined, would cause people to look at me and then say “aww” behind my back to one of their friends. That would mean that I could have a wooden leg, Tourette’s and a stutter. That would mean that I could have a glass eye, a metal plate in my head and multiple-personality disorder. That would mean that I could have narcolepsy, A.D.D., and think I was Elvis Presley.
But I’d prefer to be deaf, dumb, and blind — and still play a mean pinball.
Let me first mention that I have one of those automatic ice-makers in my fridge.
Then let me follow up that statement by telling you that my freezer also holds a myriad of other cold items. There’s Otter Pops, there’s frozen peas, there’s a bunch of South Beach Pizzas in there (Pepperoni and Four Cheese), there’s some chicken breasts and salmon, and if you look really hard you can find a bag of chocolate candy bars.
Which is just a small percentage of the tools I’d use to cryogenically freeze you if you wanted me to.
I would have sixty-five kinds of scissors.
Each pair wouldn’t have straight edges like the normal everyday scissors that our forefathers invented… No, they’d have edges that would cut paper to look like snowflakes and doilies, rug edges and frayed fabric. I’d have a belt that held just glue sticks, a locket containing sparkles and pre-cut out letters in a variety of frilly-fonts just for that special header for that special occasion. I would be, for all intents and purposes — your go to guy in the world of paper.
And those would just be a few of the reasons you would consider me to be your extreme scrapbooker.