I Dream of Kayleigh
Last night I dreamt about an asteroid the size of a football field careening on a collision course with our planet. Here on terra firma everyone around the world was glued to a screen watching Kayleigh McEnany say:
“When he [the president] says open, he means open in full, people being able get a blow dry and set, cut and color, even a mani-pedi. The science should not stand in the way of this.”
I thought, “good for you, the end of human kind is hours away, why shouldn’t we look fabulous.”
I woke up with a start. It was still dark outside. Under the incandescent glow of the bathroom light I took stock of my appearance. What if the world was about to be obliterated, what would I care about most.
Sex was the immediate almost predictable answer. One more cruise down the coitus river, maybe throw in some deviant elements based on one of my roguish fantasies— “It’s ok baby, we’re all going to be star stuff soon.”
Then I thought it better to focus my energy on saving the planet from the asteroid. Do that and I’m the biggest hero in history. I won’t have to wait in line at the Shake Shack, and my Twitter account will be famous enough to get targeted by hackers for a Bitcoin scheme.
The plan? Have everyone in the United States strap a multitude of water balloons to the roofs of their houses. If every American citizen does their part the asteroid will bounce back into space toward Pluto. It’s not a real planet, it won’t be missed.
The science says a 100 yard wide rock slamming into the earth at 30,000 miles an hour would release enough energy to liquify everything within 150 miles of the point of impact. I say, “science should not stand in the way of a plausible delusion.”