My Solution To The Energy Crisis

While I was sitting in traffic this morning I solved the World’s energy problem. Every day I somehow manage to trick myself into getting behind the wheel of a car that’s essentially going to be parked on a bridge for 40 minutes in rush hour traffic. So each day I can be assured of about three quarters of an hour of uninterrupted thought. Usually, I think about boobs. Today, for some reason, it was the earth’s energy crisis.

This morning I was looking at a slender, middle-age woman driving an escalade. At least, I’m assuming that it was a woman. Really, all I saw was the top of a head and two hands clinging desperately to the wheel. In all seriousness, the driver was eye-level with the bottom of the window. I wanted to get out and give her a phonebook to sit on, but then realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals. In retrospect, that might not have been a bad thing. There’s generally an inverse proportion between a person’s driving abilities and price/size of their car. I notice this every time a rich woman in a Hummer switches lanes without looking, runs a light, or cuts me off while waiting for gas. Which to say every 20 seconds or so.

I’m continuously shocked by the trends in today’s automobiles. Why would people who never go off-road buy off-road vehicles? It’s not like they’re practical, or cheap on gas, or even all that nice looking. Escalades and Hummers have about as much sex appeal as an open sore. However, Americans have spoken. They've said, "Please, Big Oil, I know you're already fucking me over, but there's so much of my rectum that still hasn't been violated. Can't you fuck me so hard my children, the nation and the world feels it?"

Given the trend, I know exactly what the next big thing will be: tanks. We’ll go from one military vehicle to another. I’m talking full on bullet-proof siding, rocket-guided missiles, and side mounted machine-guns for the kids. I guarantee I could stick one of those on a Cadillac lot and the only question Yuppie America would want to know is “Can I get one in pink?”

Anyway, back to my great idea. When my car dies, I'm not getting another one. Instead, my next method of transportation, considering I have to commute over a bridge with icy water, will be a walrus. I can see it now: decked out in a scarf, riding gloves and a pair of those goggles that World War II pilots wore, I come barreling through the snow up into the parking lot at the office. Cut me off now, bitch!

Off course, with the demand for power these days, maybe I’d be better off getting about a dozen and harnessing them all to a sleigh. What’s that? Your Maserati has 400 horse power? Well, it looks like three of my walruses mistook it for a female in heat. Good luck repairing that axle and getting the smell of walrus love out of your seats! Now that’s a sight you don’t see every day: a skinny, fedora wearing Jew at the reigns of a fleet of 12 matched walri.

On Pee Wee, on Surly, on Khan and Evil Lincoln!
On Smelly, Petunia, Fat Albert and P. Hilton!
Go Isuzu! Go Shakazaramesh, in your stylish white turbans!
Now Felix and Brutus, go trash that Suburban!

Yeah, I’d pimp them out with gold tusks, and medallions. Get some leather seats and a subwoofer installed in my sleigh. My only concern is that there’d be no place to put spinners.

I guess the points of today’s post are two fold:

1. I have way too much free time.
2. Don’t just complain about the impending energy crisis. Be part of the solution.