Anyway, I was watching some programme about those lab rats in Swisserland who made particles called nanobananos go faster than the speed of light - ergo they travelled back in time. I hit upon the idea that if you go backwards then exceed the speed of light them you can go forward in time. Fuck me if it didn't work.
So, what does the future hold? It's a bit shite. The Edinburgh Tram Project has bankrupt the whole of the Northern hemisphere except that fat couple from Largs who won all that money on the euro lottery. They invested in this machine that converts thoughts into deep fried pizza and now they own 98% of the planet's wealth.
So I wheeched myself away into the year 897, 265 AD and hung about for a wee bit with some Morlocks. Turns out they're not underground-dwelling, Eloi-munching, green-eyed hippy cunts. They've just a bunch of surly, greetin'-faced bastards who listen to The Smiths all the time. I got totally pissed off listening to Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now all the fucking time so while we were having a party with some liberal-minded Eloi chicks I flipped when this one Morlock twat kept banging on about his melancholia, and when he started to read me some of his poetry I punched him and started a big rammy. Fuck this, I thought, and scarpered but just as I was about to do my wobbly disappearing act some big Morlock called Morris threw a big stone at my time machine and fucked it right up...
Anyone want to buy a no' bad time machine (all offers considered)? It's got a few bumps and scratches and one big dent where that bastard Morris hit it with a big stone but it's economical to run (runs on some sort of lever thing that you have to ocassionally pretend to sharpen) and is guaranteed to provide late Victorian adventures with the possibility of sex with an Eloi of your choice. Just don't have drunken sex with a Morlock unless you plan to not sit down or swallow anything for a few days.
0 Dissenters Say...:
Post a Comment