ZAP!
So you know the old story: an alien race descends to earth and gifts some ordinary person with a mysterious suit that gives that person amazing powers. You know, something along the lines of "The Greatest American Hero" or perhaps "Puma Man."
I, too, have now entered this archetype, except that by "alien supersuit" I mean "Pink 100% Polyester Pajama Bottoms" and by "amazing powers" I mean "ability to create a static field around my entire body that sends miniature lightening bolts arcing in all directions every time I move."
I figure it's fine as long as I don't wear them to pump gas.
The weather's been so DRY, you see.
What's really weird about this, though, is the fact that every time I walk across the living room in these zappy pants, Moira's toy Madagascar II hippo says--in a very sleazy voice--"I know I'm every hippo's dream." After about 20 passes across the living room you start wondering when your life became the Theater of the Absurd.
I, too, have now entered this archetype, except that by "alien supersuit" I mean "Pink 100% Polyester Pajama Bottoms" and by "amazing powers" I mean "ability to create a static field around my entire body that sends miniature lightening bolts arcing in all directions every time I move."
I figure it's fine as long as I don't wear them to pump gas.
The weather's been so DRY, you see.
What's really weird about this, though, is the fact that every time I walk across the living room in these zappy pants, Moira's toy Madagascar II hippo says--in a very sleazy voice--"I know I'm every hippo's dream." After about 20 passes across the living room you start wondering when your life became the Theater of the Absurd.
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