When I get to the point of weepy drunk (it's rare, but it has happened) I need to be treated like a literal baby. I need to be soothed, undressed, placed directly into bed, and monitored throughout the night. Also, my tummy almost certainly hurts, and a good burping will help alleviate that pain. I will also no doubt be comforted by the close embrace I imagine would be required to burp me.

The visual would be tremendous: I'd be holding the dummy, and then the person burping me would be holding me and the whole thing is all very performance art because who burped? Who do we want you to believe burped? There are so many layers to this one!

You know how it goes. You haven't eaten all day, so you had two pieces, but you were, like, really hungry and two pieces wasn't quite enough, and then you ate a third piece but that was way too much and now you're all, "I've made a terrible mistake."

Look, we've all been there, and we all know you can't un-eat that pizza. But you could, perhaps, be burped and that would probably make you feel a whole lot better.

I just imagine this could be ritualized in such a way that being burped would all but instantly lull you into a peaceful, restorative sleep. As a newborn, my son wouldn't go down for his post-feeding nap until after he burped twice, so maybe there's something to that.

I don't necessarily have any hard science to back me up on this one, but I feel it in my gut, which could really stand to be burped right now because OMG, you guys, I'm so tired.

I just imagine looking in the smug, jerkbag face of an enemy as they go on about something stupid. You know actual thoughtful debate or facts don't matter to them, so engaging in any meaningful way isn't going to do a whole hell of a lot. However, getting someone to burp you in front of them will throw them off their game, likely disgust them, and leave you feeling relieved of uncomfortable pressure.

Yes, Spanx are always tight, but sometimes they're really tight and no matter what you do you can't get comfortable. Maybe if someone hoists you up, props your chin on their shoulder, and burps you, you'll be able to create a little room for the Spanx where all that gas once was.

There are few cozier feelings in the world than chilling in an old t-shirt and yoga pants with your boo at the end of a busy day. You recline languidly, gently laughing at whatever sitcom happens to be on, resting your head on their chest, listening to their heartbeat. Now imagine that your beloved gently slides their hand up your back and...

Pat. Pat. Pat.

Burp.

I'm sorry, but I can't imagine a situation that would make me feel more cherished, precious, or provided for. You're welcome to try to think of your own scenarios, and you may even come up with something as cozy, but not more. Never more.

Is it me or is root beer the most gaseous of all the sodas? I mean, my God. It's good and all, but you always get a bloated belly every time you drink it! If I could be guaranteed someone to burp me afterwards I would be much more inclined to drink it.

The dude is already dying out there every time he gets in front of a camera, so I take it as a challenge to make his existence even more absurd than it currently is.

So just imagine me and my burping buddy standing behind him, off to the side a little bit, away from the podium. We wouldn't be doing anything right away, mind you. Oh no, we'd just be standing there. Now imagine him greeting the press corps, and getting angry and flustered within the first five to 10 minutes. As he desperately tries to weave together an official narrative, one he knows the president will almost certainly contradict within hours on Twitter, imagine me being lifted up and gently burped right behind him. He'd probably notice, sinking him deeper into that hole he can't seem to ever dig himself out of.

It would be glorious.

Look, the trains can get packed. However, there's no reason an inconsiderate passenger should be standing literally right in front of my face. So, if you insist on making this uncomfortable for all of us, I am going to make this really uncomfortable for your rude ass.

I will do literally anything to avoid writing when I have writer's block. I also imagine the rhythmic, soothing feeling of being patted repeatedly on the back would help get the creative juices flowing, somehow. I don't know. Don't you judge me. Who are you to second-guess my creative process?

I just like the contradiction, because f*ck your beauty standards, society! I am a conventionally attractive lady who likes to wear heels, show cleavage, and be lifted up and burped like a baby. Deal with it!

I am someone who watches a lot of horror movies, despite being a big baby and getting what most would consider irrationally scared. But how scared can you be when you're being held and petted and also trying to release gas from your largest face hole? I feel like it would ease the tension considerably. It's definitely worth a try, anyway.