Greetings from the alternate reality of the year 2009! Wow! Can you believe it, we’re finally living in the future! I hope you’re having a very happy new year in this strange new world. I’m currently experiencing somewhat of a futuristic stomach flu. It feels like I’ve got World War VII going on in my stomach right now (one of the less violent world wars, but a war none the less). YEEE-OOWWW! Man I feel like I’ve got to shit a futuristic space crane. I think it may have been something I ate. Last night I killed the last of my bad clones so I figured I’d treat myself to a nice dinner. I moonwalked on down to my favorite energy refueling station (that’s a restaraunt for you oldies out there), HAMBURGER HIJINX 5000. From the menu I chose a small blue, easy to swallow caplet that was suppose to taste like sweet yams (of the future), parsley (of the future), veal chops (of the future), and a glass of Canterbury Meadows (1981). However, the refueling station made a mistake and accidently served me a flying car caplet instead of a delicious veal dinner caplet. I currently have a two ton, flying Ford Taurus resting in my stomach. I’m furious! The waiter, however, was really nice about it so I still tipped him 100 glangons. He then explained to me that we still use dollars in the future and that I can’t just call high fives “glangons” and pass it off as a tip. I then politely took 20 glangons back.
Back to the car that’s in my stomach! I look ridiculous. There’s no need for the existance of a flying car caplet! It’s just corporations trying to capitalize on two inventions by making one really big stupid invention (much like the “strawberry scented satellite” that came out last year. I don’t want to buy a whole satellite just so my bathroom will smell better). I can’t function nearly as well now. I can’t get into my car (Yes, “because my car got into me.” Yeah, that’s very clever. No one’s ever said that to me before. You’re a regular Yakof Smirnof’s grandson). I look like I’m pregnant with a cyborg whale shark! I’ve had to cancel all my zero gravity tennis lessons (but that’s just because I can’t afford them anymore. My dad warned me about being a theatre major. But I just laughed and I told him “Call me Laertes, father, or call me nothing”).
The doctors say that my stomach acids will eventually eat away at the car. But it’s a TAURUS for god’s sake. It’s built FORD tough. I’m screwed! It’s gonna take forever. Maybe if I’d been served a KIA or a Geo, I’d be okay. But no, I had to go and swallow the most dependable car in the western hemisphere. I might as well have swallowed a bullet proof oil drum full of the Lord almighty’s wrath and fury! Alright, I’m done complaining. We’re only a few weeks into this new future and my new year’s resolution was to stop carrying a full body mirror around everywhere I go. God, I say that every year, but this time it’s for real. Anyways, enjoy the “future.”