I should mention these are still mostly about having sex.
There I am, back from the peace corps. I look exactly like Ani Difranco except that my height and eyes are still my own. Let it be said that I have her dread locks, nose ring, elf-chin and guitar skills. But for some reason I'm eating Chinese. My chop stick handling is really what it's all about. (SN: I think I started this back at the end of high school, when I ate with almost nothing but a spoon.) I've met up quite by chance with one of those hot guys who can't seem to find the road leading out of his hometown..As yet he doesn't have two ex wives, back problems or a beer gut, buuuuut, he's into me! In fact he's very taken with my chopstick technique, sort of, you know, intimidated in an alluring way.
"Oh this," I muse, "just a little something I picked up in the Orient." OK so, I didn't used to know that was a bad way to say Asia. Nor could I have imagined that basically every American ever would learn how to use chop sticks eventually. Whatever. AHEM. Moving on.
I was always sort of vague on the details from here on out, our conversation probably highlighted my many success in south east Asia or Africa or both and that of course, with the salt of age his boyish charms would have given way to dreadfully witty and amazing in bed. He'd want to marry me but you know, its not you, its me. Ok I'm lying. It's your GED.
Here we are, in space. Its the future and I am the neurolinguist on a mission to colonize Europa. We wear a lot of Under Armour shirts and mine really bring out the blue in my eyes. They likewise highlight the buldging pectoral muscles of all the adult males... (In the future all adult males will have them.) I basically look like doctor Sattler from Jurasic Park except that I don't have a stupid mid-90's wavy-perm-bangs thing goin on. I've noticed a name CCed on all my mission related emails but didn't figure that the "One that got away" was also a top ranking acoustical physicist because I read that periodical, uh, periodically and never see his name.
At the pre-mission meet and greet however I find him next a huge tray of chocolate covered strawberries and we have our little, I think we've met before moment when some one tries to introduce us. It's more awkward then fiery. I respectfully break eye contact and do my best to harness Scully's sense of professional distance (circa season 1, 2 and 3) Most importantly, his partner can't go with him on the ship. Don't ask me, I don't make the rules! There just isn't enough space, we'd have to do a fuel dump, we might not make it and she accuses me of setting this whole thing up. I nobly attempt to be removed from the mission and let her go in my stead but naturally my leaving will throw off the launch calculations and no one neurolinguicizes quite like me. I mean, I'm The Chair. (That's academic for "the shit") It takes us a few years, but we are going to colonize a planet, so we eventually get over our guilt and totally make babies.
The last one I want to share with you is set in post apocalyptic America...Lets call it New Vegas or something. Anyway, I'm totally a raider combing the bad lands for fresh water, new drugs and people to rob. I'd be extra good at night watch and I'd finally have the ass I've always deserved. Check out my Pip-Boy...you were looking at my Pip-Boy, right?
Atanyrate, the future is an amazing and bright place. I can't wait to get there. I think I'll go look for it now.
Nite!
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Europa /
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Scully /
the post modern talko
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