The old 411 is that any food picked up from the floor within 5 seconds is cool.
Recently, science say the theory for sure don’t suck.
So short, 5 seconds. What can happen in 5 seconds?
You can start a universe. In less than that, it went from nothing through the Planck, the Grand Unification, the Electroweak, the Inflationary, Baryogenesis, the Quark, the Hadron, and the start of the Lepton epochs. In physical size, it was about as big as 500 of our solar systems, in less time than it takes to say, “Holmes, what time Big Bang on tonight?”
These bitches for 5 seconds won’t hang you ass out:
Be made over you shoulder cybering pron.
Grab baggage that ain’t yours from the carousel. Just because you fly Coach don’t mean you can’t put you fingers on some every now and then.
Conversate like Beverly Hillbillies. Be like ‘Well doggies!’ or ‘How do you like your possum?’, or call food ‘vittles’, and no one will have any idea what you spillin’. Any more than five seconds of Granny-speak, and Miss Jane will be taking you out to the ce-ment pond for some one-on-one counseling.
Get a heart-on for the wrong person.
Chill on Discovery while changing channel.
Watch a pot before it boil. If you watch it, it will never boil. But they don’t tell you how long it take to keep it from boiling. But less than 5 seconds, you ok.
Shake a lamb tail. Twice.
Be blonde. Slap on the blush.
Step out of the International Space Station with no suit. Less than five seconds, cool; you really can do about 30. But don’t try to hold you breath! No, for real!
Try on the wrong size bra. That go for guys, too.
Launch a boat with no drain plug in.
Walk a beach with you kicks on.
Be made with a slide rule.
Pose a booty pop on the Gram.
These bitches for more than 5 seconds? Not cool:
Style camo sneakas if you not country chicas.
Yack like De Niro. You can’t because De Niro say everything twice. De Niro say everything twice. Make you nuts. Make you nuts. Look at his movies. Look at his movies. Every line he say twice. Every line he say twice. Now, if not twice completely, he would say this sentence a second time, like, with some less words: ‘A second time, like this’. It’s kind of an Italian thing. It’s an Italian thing. No, it’s not OCD. Not OCD. He has a reading disorder. It’s a reading disorder. He read all the lines in a script twice. He read all the lines twice. And he think he just saying his lines the way they are meant. He think he just saying his lines. Then, he say them. Twice. He say them twice.
Wait to put his happy hat on. Go ahead, keep that wrapped and waiting on the nightstand and you might as well start painting that spare bedroom and pricing bassinets.
Aim a smartphone at anyone.
‘Sing’ Jimi Hendrix licks.
Down someone else’s 40.
Pass another car, then go slower.
Hunt for the button for you floor on the elevator; you plain in the wrong building, Sherlock.
Let a cat out of a bag. That bitch is gone.
Cut the bangers from the middle of a dub.
Go Caps Lock on.
Mouth-hug the champagne, keeping the sick, creamy, lightly toasty, bustin’ rizzle citrus zest, pear and yeasty sub-thumped fruity acidic low notes of that bumpin’ flow from we all. Pass it, girl!
Have you man come across you Large Hadron Collider Access Pass in you bag. Tell him ‘CERN’ is a salon that mean ‘Chicks Estrogenically Rad and Natty’, and those creds get you discount on product.
DAVE PETRAGLIA‘s writing and photography have appeared in Popular Science, Popular Mechanics, Better Homes & Gardens; more recently in Agave Magazine, Cactus Heart, Crack the Spine, Dark Matter Journal, eFiction India, Loco, Gravel, Olivetree Review, Petrichor Review, Storyacious, Thought Catalog, theNewerYork, and Vine Leaves. He lives near Jacksonville, Florida. His blog is at www.drowningbook.com.