Strangely Naked

Warning: Due to many heavy subjects being discussed in the last few posts, rather than really thinking this post out, I am going to write this stream-of-consciousness…mostly to fill space on a half-assed notion. You have been warned, tangents will abound.

For those in the 70 countries that still celebrate it, this week saw the return of Daylight Savings Time, when clocks skip ahead an hour in an attempt to save candle oil, an economic holdover from World War I and an idea that Benjamin Franklin first floated in jest in 1784. It has also seen the return of a lot of vitriol toward Daylight Savings Time. “It robs us of an hour,” or “It hurts farmers, it’s not because of farmers,” or “the stats say that more accidents happen the week after DST,” or whatever John Oliver said about it.

What is being ignored in those arguments is that Daylight Savings Time ending probably has the same effects. So, I say, rather than getting rid of…

Hold on, there are gross stray cats–not the charming Heathcliff-style cats, or AristoCats, or cats from the musical Cats type cats, but super gross, stray, like truck drivers who only eat fast food, wear stained white tank tops and have secret families style stray cats–are outside of my window have dirty, homeless-cat sex. I have to scare them off. I’ll be back.

…

Okay, I stomped my feet and used a squirt gun. I feel bad for breaking up some nasty sex, because, get you some, you gross homeless cats, but I don’t need any stray cat–even Brian Setzer–thinking this is their territory and dumping a bunch of doomed orphan baby kittens on my lawn outside of my window, giving me a moral quandary. That’s nasty. See? This is why we NEED Daylight Savings Time, so that I can be awake enough to chase off nasty alley cats with no sexual standards. No cat-slut-shaming.

Back to the point: Rather than getting rid of Daylight Savings Time, I say we ditch the non-Daylight Savings Time time change. Why do we, as a society, want our arbitrary time choice to make life darker earlier? In other words, why would people prefer to have the sunset happen at 6:30 now rather than 7:30? Wouldn’t you rather have that extra time, that extra daylight to spend more time outdoors with your family? When October and we’re supposed to change our clocks back, why? Wouldn’t you rather it still be daylight when you get home from work than watching the sun retreat behind the terminal horizon as you’re trapped behind a wall of obnoxious personalized license plates?

…

Is that my neighbor singing like an asthmatic Michael Bolton or are the skank-cats back? I should check to make sure the cats aren’t wearing clear high-heels. Again, no cat-slut-shaming. But, that said, why are cats always presenting their buttholes to everyone? Drop that tail, gross cat, or at least get that chocolate lemon mouth (picture it) bleached.

…

Oh, how I loathe coming home at night, in the darkness, while stray cats are experimenting with Missionary (because they don’t want to do Doggy, right?), with people in the inky black of rush hour in December not being able to see who is in their blind spot, with cars on two-lane roads not being able to see the lane markers and drifting into my lane, during the time reasonable cats are sexing each other up to then pass out early. I want to pass out early but society shames me for falling asleep at 7:45. If it’s 8:45? Hey, you’re just turning in early. Turning in at 7:45 is because you have to start work at 3 a.m. or because you’re getting a nap in before a robbery.

Let’s just leave the time as it is now, without torturously shifting the hour hand backward (I may be trying to ply the jury with my choice of words). Let us all come home, no matter your commute, at a reasonable time so we can spend daylight hours with our family…and turn a hose on overly-horny stray cats (until someone comes out with cat-vibrators that I can coat in catnip and put in my neighbors’ yards).