I've got it all figured out.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

I hate hot tubs.

Ugh! Just look at that boiling caldron of disgustingness.

The bubbles keep it from forming a skin!

Now I like baths. A bath is great when you’re not feeling well or you’re cold or your muscles ache. There’s nothing I like better on a cold winter evening then grabbing Mr. T Duck off of the shelf,

climbing into a hot bath and splashing around for a while listening to Jawbone on the hifi.

But hot tubs, that’s a whole different story. First of all I don’t like being hot for any extended period of time. A 5 minute hot shower every day and a 20 minute hot bath every couple of weeks is good enough for me. If I had a hot tub I’d feel the need to justify it by sitting in it all the time and I don’t need that. As a human being I am warm blooded and can generate my own body heat. I am not a Snakeman.

Hope you brought your trunks He-Man. We might go in the hot tub later. Hisssssss. Hissssss.

The next problem I have with hot tubs is the whole sharing thing. People that have hot tubs always want other people to get in it with them. Even at hotels and spas complete strangers sit around in these giant baths together. That’s weird. It’s one thing for a couple to spend a romantic evening in a hot tub (though if you really want romance I’d opt for a tub that includes a toilet for two)

but I’m not getting in a hot tub with that bald business schlub I saw in the hotel lobby on his cell phone telling his wife about the sizzling plate of fajitas he just had for dinner.

Hey, don’t mind me guys. I’ll just slide over. Squeek Rub. Rub. Squeeeek.

But it’s the people that have hot tubs in their homes that creep me out the most. What do you see when you picture the kind of guy that owns a hot tub?

Yep, me too.

Those gross swinger types that look like their whole body is just a shiny, greasy extension of their genitals.

Sometimes they advertise these hot tub expos that go on for a whole weekend up by the airport. Once I get over the disbelief that the demand for hot tubs here in Toronto is big enough to even sustain an event such as this I just picture them as swinger conventions. Do you think the people that go there to look at hot tubs wear their bathing suits so they can try before they buy? Do you think there are salesmen decked out in budgie smugglers sitting right in the hot tubs waiting for customers? What could a life time of sitting in and selling hot tubs do to the human body? That’s probably what happened to Jack Nicholson.

That and his all gas station hoggie diet.

Do you think they have vendors that try to cash in on some of the other things hot tubers need?

Does Zima has a booth there? You betcha.

Medalion tables? For sure.

Degreaser? Stacked in pyrimids.

If Muc-Off really want to make some cash at the hot tub show they need to invent Pubegone.

Well one thing you definitely won’t find there is me. I want no part of that human soup.

File Photo: My personal hell.

Yep, I hate hot tubs. Just thought you might like to know.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I thought it was just me that hated these cesspools, hurray for common sense!