Jul
31
Perpetual Thought Machine - Caffeine Donuts May Cause Yummy Cancer
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I’ve been thinking of vacationing outside the dome but then I’d have to pick up my environsuit from the cleaners, rent artificial lung tanks and brush up on my Flargonese. “Gleetor Doo” means, “Where’s the toilet pad?” Whatever, Flargons!
Lawyers are like herpes. Everyone’s got them and they’re expensive to suppress.
Some animals that we’ve allowed to exist are cool but others should go back to extinction. Dreamflies are awesome but I hate those depressing Butterflies. I wish I could get paid to swat those tri-colored wing worms out of the artificial sky.
The giant Glade plug-in at the smell factory ran out of scent-juice last week and the stench from the boron energy fields wafted up to my residence pod. The smell was so bad I almost wished I wasn’t created with the sensitivity of a thousand dog noses but then I caught a whiff of tacos from Old Mexico and it totally made up for it.
Life is full of tough decision. Like, what TV channel should you download, should you pull the plug on your 400-year-old grandmother and when do you fire your Butlerbot?
The Science Masters won’t let us have books and I say good riddance! The only way I can learn is with pretty pictures and approximately three bouncing breasts.
My boss claims to have traveled to the land of women but he’s full of boron.
Saturday Social Hour is the worst part of my week. I could understand maybe fifteen minutes of social interaction but an hour? That’s an extra forty five minutes that my penises are away from the orgasmatron!
When I told the new kid at work that I don’t teleport anymore he called me a squarebot. Listen, in my youth I’d teleport from Neo Egypt to New New York, but those days are over and I don’t miss the molecular reassembly hangovers one bit. So don’t tell me about teleporting when you’re not even old enough to drink Fermented Social Beverage, kid!
My dream for Human and Flargon peace really took a step backwards when Celebri-God Danny DeVito showed up drunk on the Flargon View and said that all Flargons were born out of Donald Trump’s third anus. It was pretty funny, though.
I hate buying a new computer because it’ll be outdated by the time you take it out of the cloud box. For what I paid to get my eggplant processor you can now get a dual-shelled unsalted peanut processor.
I wrote a poem;
The lightbulb-sun illuminates the dome
My brand new Butlerbot welcomes me home
Flargons and Humans unite at the cores
We just have different-sized herpes sores
Jul
15
Perpetual Thought Machine - Healthy Cigarettes Banned From Seedy Joints
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Puberty is an awkward time for everyone but it was downright traumatizing for me. It wasn’t so much the hair in strange places but the shock of my first poop.
I often wonder where colloquialisms like, “Whoomp there it is!” and, “Dead as a dogbot!” come from. Oh, that’s right, the soldiers outside my window.
Have you tried new Frosted Soylent Green cereal? It’s better than the Berry Berry flavor but still can’t compete with Coco because once you finish the cereal you’re left with an entire bowl of chocolate-y breast milk.
Ever since Crows won the Great Bird War all they do is fly around acting like their bird poop don’t stink. Well, enjoy being the only feathered creatures in the sky but don’t forget who nuked the canaries at the Battle of the Beaks!
My seventh cousin collects antique air cars and, man, are they stupid. When I saw the one with the push-button ignition I nearly lost my genetically altered mind. Our idiotic ancestors had to touch so much crap it’s no wonder those primates had so many fingers.
My nutjob co-worker got so obsessed with proving that the Science Masters have a time machine that he stopped showing up for work. Also, his phone is disconnected. Oh, and his house has been replaced by a giant, smoldering crater.
Recently, an escaped child from the surface ran up to me, tears streaking down his dirty face, begging for insight regarding humanity’s place on the planet. I knelt down beside him and said, “Slave boy, there are two kinds of people in this world – Humans and Flargons; everything else is just a blend of polymerized plastic.” He ran away screaming something about guards and impending doom but I know deep down I taught him a valuable lesson.
Playstation 23 has way better graphics than Xbox 7,200º – you can barely even see Cloud’s nose hairs in the Xbox port of Final Fantasy VII.
Sometimes I wish we could return to simpler times. I camped outside Wal-Mart Land for two weeks to get the new Applesoft Brain-Phone and it literally short-circuited as soon as I walked through the metal detector in my bathroom!
May
30
Perpetual Thought Machine - Two Squids, One Bucket Dominates Internet
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MTVh1 had Donald Trump III on Space Cribs last night and his residence pod was beyond typical extravagance. Sure, he had oil lamps and a hangar filled with luxury air cars but I almost feinted when they revealed his banana tree. I didn’t think anyone outside of the Royal Intergalactic family could afford a flarking banana tree!
Kids say the darndest things. Like one time my nephew said, “Can I have an orange soda?” I was like, “Haha, what other kind is there?”
I’m not one to be judgmental, especially since the government increased the voltage on my prejudice-collar, but I can’t stand these Earth-born, Flargon wannabes with their Flargon clothes and fake tentacles. Shave those armpit braids, Fliggers!
Who still watches TV shows with real people in them? They look so fake compared to ultra CGI.
If I were a space pirate, I’d hide all of my booty in an underground bunker on Planet Zorp. The other space pirates would all be like, “Hey, Rogue Bloop, where’re your nitrogen dodecahedrons?” and I’d be like, “Definitely not in a bunker on Planet Zorp, haha…” They’d all join in the laughter and go back to drinking Flargon blood out of gorilla-bird skulls - but I’ll sip my star juice quietly knowing that the jokes on them.
My work associates from the community factory are always making me pick up the check after lunch. What am I? Made of bananas?
Have you seen the documentary about the terrible working conditions in Sector B5? Their furniture is so dusty; you’d swear they’ve never owned a pair of Swiffer Pants.
The Science Masters want us to stop using our electron-inhibiting ozone-protectors because of global cooling. I say, damn the sun, bring on the glaciers and crank up the M.H.T.’s (Magma Heat Tubes)!
Who are you going to vote for in the 2110 Presidential Cage Match? At first I thought maybe Chelsea Clinton would win but then I remembered Jeb Bush Jr.’s finishing move – The Sunshine State Vote-Dump.
May
15
Perpetual Thought Machine - Segway Bridge Construction Delayed Due To Lack Of Interest
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Sometimes, one little discovery can solve a great mystery. Like when your travel disc won’t start and suddenly you notice the Jupiter crystal is dirty or when Bea Arthur cast aside her lowly celebrity shell and was finally revealed as Mother of all CelibriGods.
Have you seen the new Heinz squeeze bottle that only combines ketchup, mustard, BBQ sauce, and mayonnaise? Don’t tell me I have to buy a separate squeeze bottle for tartar sauce now. What is this? The 2050’s?
My great grandfather told me he had friends named “mike” and “chris” which is so stupid because names like that don’t even indicate blood type let alone what function they serve at the Social Betterment Facility. Ridiculous!
I swear to Bea Arthur that some days you just wake up on the wrong side of the sleep-regulating rejuvenation chamber.
Dear Science Masters, thank you for curing AIDs II, regenerating lost appendages, and transplanting eagle eyeballs to blind people, but can you please put a little more effort into curing the common cold? Or would you rather pay the dry cleaning bill for getting the puke out of my dolphin-skin couch?
It’s getting increasingly harder to stay above the law. Recently, I forgot to upload my breakfast to Yahootube and the Knowledge Investigation Bureau fined me ten billion world coins…no big deal, right? But then those monsters of authority disconnected my Internet for three life-altering hours that I’ll never get back. Never!
I thought I finally saw a woman today but it turns out it was just a very sexy cloud of nitrogen gas.
I accidentally slept through the back nine on Golferday and now I have to hit five birdies of repentance in order to appease Father Woods. Sometimes I just hate Golfism and I want to sleep through every single Golferday – there I said it!
Some citizens claim they can’t recall being born but I remember it like it was yesterday – the cytoplasmic growth sac, the energy transference module and alllll that sour cream!
May
9
Perpetual Thought Machine - My Flying Car Has A Flat
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Downloadable food seemed like such a great idea when Applesoft introduced it in 2105 but I prefer to order my beef-flavored sustenance packets the old fashioned way – by text messaging Wal-Mart.
The easiest way to tell if someone’s a morning person is the setting on his or her Jogbot. My neighbor’s Jogbot is set to “companion” so it casually jogs alongside her while commenting on the weather and complimenting her hair. My Jogbot is set to “boot camp” which means I often “forget” to recharge that robotic asshole’s battery.
Liberals complained when the world government started recording dreams but what are we going to do - repeal the Anti-Imagination Act of 2097? Dream on, hippies - right into Uncle Sam’s sleep helmets!
Online museums are a great way to learn about history. I logged onto the Coca-Cola museum recently and learned that for several decades in the 20th and 21st centuries they took out the cocaine. How crazy is that? That’s like McDonalds removing the anti-depressants from their cheeseburgers!
Don’t you hate it when the Skytrain is delayed for track re-magnetization, you miss the last Airavan, and you can’t even flag down a Cloudcab? There’s no choice but to return to your residence pod and watch the game on your diamond screen TV because what else can you do? Take the elevator down to the surface and ride the ground bus? I’d rather be raped by a gaggle of hipposharks!
My favorite holiday meal is either Thanksgiving turkey or the barbeque Moleman ribs we eat for Emperor Schwarzeneggar Day.
Everyone’s grandfather is a little racist. I was watching TV when Muurgon Heti, the local Flargon newscaster, came on and my grandpa yelled, “Go back to Yurtack 9, you button-faced coal-feeder!” My grandpa used to work in the Flargon district and he was mind-robbed a few times so his prejudice is kind’ve justified.
The dinosaur section of the Zoo is okay but my favorite is the section with re-animated people from the past. Last week, I saw George Washington build a raft out of mattress parts and ford the tiny stream that runs through the middle of his cage. He was screaming something about freedom and justice to me but I can’t remember specifics because I was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of his stupid wooden teeth!
Whenever I go to the hospital to get my arteries flushed I bring along a triple bacon burrito burger from Kentucky Fried Wendy’s and eat it right in front of the nurse. I like to play gags on the working class because they kind’ve deserve it for not having an intergalactic trust fund.













