For quite a while now, I’ve been rambling on Facebook about why I should own a massive, fuckoff Zeppelin.

I mean why not? If you can get over the fact that your home could explode at any moment, the expense, and that staggering out of the door to a drunken night out can only end badly…

… there are actually quite a few advantages.

1. You live in a Zeppelin.

I’m not actually sure I can stress this point enough. You live in a massive balloon, IN THE SKY. That’s pretty awesome.

Forget your friends living out their monotonous lives in their houses made of BRICK. Ha! You laugh at them as you settle down in your living room in your own personal skycastle. All you need is lightweight steel and a big balloon.

Easypeasy.

2. Late for work? No problem.

So, you roll over out of bed and look at your alarm clock, it’s shaped like a zeppelin, you bought it in celebration of your new lifestyle, it also says you’re late for work.

Literally, on the clock-face, LATE.

So you roll out of bed, you think about the commute. Will you drive to work, and have to sit in ENDLESS queues, wasting VALUABLE FOSSIL FUELS with the same monotonous, top 40, songs on your radio? Or maybe take public transport where you will be over-charged, too hot and inevitably squashed into somebody else’s armpit? You could grab a taxi? Can you bear the awkward conversation that the taxi driver will make with you?

You shudder. Perish the thought.

As you climb into the shower you smile. OH WAIT. You live in a massive AIR BALLOON. Why do you need to do ANY of those things?

YOU. CAN. DRIVE. YOUR. HOUSE. TO. WORK.

Grabbing your captains hat, free with every zeppelin, you gracefully float over the motorway. Looking down, you see drivers stuck in a traffic jam that carries on as far as the eye can see.

You’re nearly at work now. Whiskey in hand, you descend from the clouds like the majestic beast you are. The boss is just parking up. He/She sees you and your majestic airship. Overcome with emotion at the wonder of it all, they fall to their knees and promote you on the spot.

#Success.

3. Your kids will have lots of friends.

So, while you were on your merry way, whiskey in hand, to work. You remembered two things:

1. You have kids.
2. They are required, by law to go to that school thing. Where they hang out with other children. Apparently learning stuff.

You put the zeppelin into autopilot by putting your captain’s hat, free with every zeppelin, into the steering wheel (the hat knows where to go), and run to get your kids up from their slumber. They wake up and get ready for school. You pity them.

After remembering that apparently, the excuse that they had to leave all their books at home because you can’t carry luggage AND a parachute isn't an acceptable excuse. So you make sure to remind them to take the ladder rather that parachuting onto the roof.

Yes you know it was awesome. Yes you are aware that parachuting your children to school is probably dangerous. Yes you know that the other parents view throwing your children out of a zeppelin as a very poor effort in regards to safeguarding. And?

You live in a Zeppelin, you don’t need their approval.

Back to your kids, they ascend from the sky on a health and safety approved fraying rope ladder which swings wildly as they climb down. Your children are fearless. They don’t even flinch as they have to jump the last 10 meters or so because the hat, which is still driving the zeppelin by the way, couldn't be arsed descending the last few meters.

You report the hat to the captain (you). It’s assigned to swabbing the decks. Can’t get the staff these days.

Meanwhile, the other kids (we’ll refer to them as ground-dwellers as they haven’t achieved zeppelin status) have watched your children’s progress with awe and wonder. They applaud as your children touch down on the playground and hail them as gods for the rest of the day.

Lunch money galore.

Your kids adore you + they weren't late for school = win all round. You pour yourself another whiskey.

Brofists for everyone.

4. So far that’s 2 whiskeys before work.

Not bad.

5. Fuck this. Time for a Holiday.

It’s the weekend, or a Thursday, Whiskey has made you a little less caring about the dictatorship of the days of the week. Facists. You never voted for this.

You decide it’s time for a holiday.

The kids are at school (or are they? You spend about 0.00002 seconds worrying about this. Then you have some more Whiskey.)

It’s time for a holiday. You’re fed up of driving for miles and you would rather put your squishy parts on a rather big egg whisk than take a budget airline somewhere.

Everything is slightly hazy. You vaguely remember a solution to this problem that you came up with yesterday… maybe last week? (Whiskey)

You stagger over to the steering wheel. The hat is still driving. That is one clever hat. You congratulate yourself for having purchased such an incredibly clever hat, the likes of which the world has never seen before. Well done you.

Whiskey in hand, you saunter majestically over to the window. You feel much better now you've had an hour or two to wake yourself up. Gazing out over the blue wastelands, you think about how small you are and how wonderful the world is.

You see trees below, sky above, is that a mountain or a building infront of you? You don’t care. You live in a Zeppelin, life is good.

Isn't it a bit breezy in here? Why is everything spinning? Why is your whiskey still in the glass?

You are falling.

You see the ground rushing up towards you.

Is this the end? You think.

You take a sip of whiskey and wait for the end.

It was all over so suddenly. Around your foot is wrapped a bit of the frayed rope ladder. You begin to acsend. On the other end of the ladder is your hat. Pulling you to safety.

Clever hat.

You decide never to drink again.

You also decide it’s probably about time to go pick your kids up from school.