money (in) laundering

One of the nice things about college is having access to an on-campus laundromat of sorts. Admittedly one still has to pay (at least at MY college) and a pretty penny at that, the machines are usually broken (sometimes making a high-pitched screaming noise for the duration of the cycle), and there really are not enough of them during rush hour, or even moderately-paced hour, but the point is that they are there, in plurality. Those who have patience, foresight and a carefully-structured schedule can launch a sneak attack at a quiet moment and secure the use of all the machines at once, dicing the time required to take care of this onerous duty into halves or even quarters. This is not a big concern for the majority of the stuff-everything-into-one-mega-load-happy populace, some of whom think washing is more of a suggestion than a requirement. For those who separate the whites from the colors, the permanent press from the cottons, and like to use correct grammar, such an opportunity is no small boon, which becomes all the more apparent when college has become alma mater and laundromat is replaced by ONE machine while two-hour completion time is replaced by four. That's a large percentage of the day, people, too much time that could be used for creation to be wasted on washing.

In light of this I have decided to invent self-cleaning clothing. I'm somewhat divided on how to do this. One the one hand we have the now-traditional nano-bot approach - billions of tiny robots smaller than a molecule all crawling around inside the clothing, cleaning every microbe of grime, skin flecks, perspiration, etc., while simultaneously providing a pleasant tickling sensation. This would be too easy and predictable, though. Consequently I have devoted the full brunt of my mighty mental powers towards developing a way to perpetually reconstruct the clothing as it is worn. The principle is so simple an idiot could have devised it - much like a frame of animation, each occasion of the clothing is in existence for only an instant. Everyone knows an instant, like a point, has no breadth or duration, so there's no time for the clothing to get dirty. The next instant the old cloth is gone and the new cloth is born, to be replaced by another the next instant, and so on. The science is sound, but so far I've had little luck convincing the companies that own laundry products to reinvest their money in my little project. Also I overclocked my particle accelerator and have to make a trip to Wal-Mart to pick up another. These things happen. Anyway, there should be a financial breakthrough any day now, and when it comes you'll be the first to know. If, in the meantime, you wish to invest in a much more promising fund than anything Wall Street's going to be offering any time soon, I'll be only too happy to take your money. I'm generous like that.