January 17, 2008

My feet were wet, it is a horrible feeling that squelching cold sensation as my foot pushed down on the sodden pavement as I reluctantly make my way towards work.

Amazing isn’t it, that after a squillion thousand and billion one years of evolution we can sew a human ear on the back of a mouse and synthesise Posh Spices voice to make it sound audible (if i was Beckham I would cut my own ears off and sew them to the closest mouse to avoid listening to her trite all day, poor mouse though) yet we still have not mastered the art of making a waterproof shoe.

I still insist on wearing the finest Italian leather shoes to convince myself I am successful and not a talentless poor salesman. Evolution in the shoe department (or Shoevolution (c) as I like to call it) has not really come along in leaps and bounds. Whilst Darwin may have approved of Marty McFlys automated Nike future boots (I always wanted a hover board) I bet he would turn in his grave to think I was still strapping an animal skin to my foot held together with a piece of string.

If I wanted a wet foot inside an animal skin I would slice open the back of a rabbit and squash its little rabbit kidneys in-between my toes and like an eel when you cut of its head, it might even run for a while before its nervous system collapses, and it could rabbit power me to work just that little bit faster.