It's getting 'Chaff' in herre, so take of all... - The Chaff with Scott Stephenson
Convection. That’s the enemy. Heat rises, clings and settles in the creases of society like so much poorly-stored cheese. It seeps into our lives, our pores, our orifices, turning casual afternoons into full-body sauna simulations. With temperatures soaring and shade fleeing for the northern territories, we at The Chaff have assembled a collection of practical, tested and only occasionally lawsuit-inducing strategies to keep you cool this summer. Some methods may raise eyebrows. Some may raise insurance premiums. All of them, however, were born of desperation and freezer burn.
The first and most aggressive approach: ice guns. Developed in a dank basement with a retrofitted caulking gun, a bag of party ice and something we’re no longer legally allowed to call “pressurised freon,” these handy devices fire chilled vapour at close range.
If you prefer to cool passively, perhaps due to injury, philosophy or an overarching sense of emotional disengagement, consider our mist mask. Built from a repurposed fencing helmet and several aquarium parts, this device releases a steady micro-mist across the wearer’s face. The sensation has been described by testers as “like making out with a wet ghost,” and “reminiscent of being slowly waterboarded by a cloud.” Still, hydration is hydration.
For the fashion-forward, we present: frosted pants. Simply dampen your favourite trousers, fold them neatly into a resealable bag and freeze overnight beside your emotional baggage. Don’t worry about the stiffness - they’ll thaw into a pleasant chill within 20 minutes of wear, or faster if you climb stairs, do high kicks, or even just listen to the song “Legs” by ZZ Top.
Our footwear solution is even more impressive. We call it cooling shoes, though “walking on ice blocks secured with twine” is more descriptively honest. Perfect for short errands or extended standing contests, they provide up to 12 minutes of relief, or six if exposed to direct sunlight. Early adopters have noted improvements in posture, overall chillness and humility.
Sipping tepid tap water from a bacteria-ridden tumbler shaped like a flamingo just doesn’t cut it anymore. We now recommend internal glaciation, or the practice of swallowing a single ice cube, whole, every half hour. It cools from within and provides a welcome burst of existential clarity as your body debates the merits of choking versus sweating. For a gentler approach, try nesting the cube inside a slice of cucumber and whispering something calming before ingestion.
For communal relief, The Chaff has installed a public cooling arena behind the office, consisting of a shallow kiddie pool inside of a decommissioned military tent filled with almost-expired slushie mix and one large industrial fan named Kevin. Kevin oscillates at his own discretion, often turning toward those most in need, or away from them with cryptic defiance. We don’t fully understand his algorithms. Visitors are encouraged to bring their own ladles and avoid eye contact with Kevin. The arena is BYOT (bring your own towel), though we do offer Chaff-branded commemorative drying bibs for $18.
We’ve also created an emergency chill kit for field deployment. Contents include:
-A collapsible parasol (floral pattern)
-An emergency popsicle (cherry)
-A laminated card that says “Too hot to function but too cool to care.”
-A small sachet of sand (unclear why, but it feels right. Trust the sand.)
-A mood ring (optional, but useful for tracking internal heat-based despair)
Not all solutions are physical. The Chaff research and propaganda team recommends emotional refrigeration: repress your feelings, speak only in measured tones and project an aura of distant elegance. Think “arctic librarian” or “bored glaciologist.” Coolness begins within. Also, try humming in C minor, the chilliest key. Avoid F-sharp. F stands for fire - too hot! And too sharp!
For those willing to go further, we suggest lifestyle modifications. Eat only chilled grapes. Replace the driver’s seat of your car with a cold plunge tub. Live your life inside of a bar fridge. Let your freeze flag fly!
Finally, we remind readers that true relief is a state of mind. With the right mindset, even the most molten afternoons can become bearable. Cultivate an arctic disposition. Read books about snow. Watch videos of penguins until your internal thermostat purrs like a satisfied walrus. Lie down in the shade. Contemplate what’s left of the polar ice caps. And if you weep, make sure to collect the tears; they’re electrolyte-rich and surprisingly effective in watering succulents.
Stay frosty out there, friends. Or, at the very least, stay dignified in your slow collapse. And remember: “What’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold!” -OutKast