Granted. You are struck by lightning and killed instantly about 10 yards off the 18th green of your favoirte golf course. Teary-eyed club members have you cremated and your ashes buried on the very spot where you died. This also happens to be the spot where golf carts are unloaded off the truck a couple times a year, so as each one falls off the loading ramp with a gentle "plunk," neither you nor it nor anything else is damaged in the slightest. Congratulations.
I wish that I was impervious to the vacuum of space.
Granted.. you are impervious, but everything else becomes more susceptible as the atmosphere wraps itself around you to protect you. Everything else is sucked into the vacuum of space and you are left alone floating.. until the atmosphere around you is eventually destroyed by your breathing.
Oh, it's very simple... however, everyone who's figgured it out, ceased to exist, and all the timeline warped slightly so that they never existed, so noone knows about it.
Granted. A pack of surly, ennervated winos will forcibly evict you from your cardboard box this evening, claiming it as their own. It's not so much that you can afford to move any earlier, just that you can't afford not to.
A double wish -- I wish that I was a writer non pareil. I also wish I had a big box of nonpareils.
Granted, everyone knows exactly what everything is. However this means alot of people suddenly discover they were wrong about their religions causing mass suicide and alot of people's bodies rotting on the streets.
I wish I was a god, with the male and female manifestations and no dog related things...
Granted but your female parts really hate your male parts and you are forever at war with yourself.
I wish they would unlock my account
<hEarty> I know that I am claustrophobic
<pie> did you live in a small house with a large family?
<pie> that would make me claustrophobic.
<hEarty> no
<pie>(oh my gosh, I did live in a small house... I'M CLOSTRAPHOVIC!!!) (just kidding.)