I was born with a rare bone disease that keeps me as weak and fragile as a reed. I’m also quite allergic to any form of pain. If ever I were to commission a “real” tattoo, certainly I’d pass out and possibly die from exhaustion. And yet I needed to appear very bad-ass in effort to impress a handsome young biker gentleman I met at a local dive bar (a lone wolf with the most dreamy eyes this side of the open road).
My doctor recommended Temporary Fake Tattoo #25 as a medicinal substitute to the “real” tattoo I wanted to get (but simply couldn’t because of my delicate consistence). I bought a few hundred of these babies and have been wearing them every day since.
My biker boy, Dirty Dan, hasn’t noticed at all. He completely believes that the tattoo is real; he often admires the complex intricacies of the barbs while making here-and-there comments about how he wishes he had a tattoo this hardcore.
I’m happy to say that I succeeded in courting my dream man thanks to this product. Of course I expect to be buying many thousands more if I want to maintain this harmless deception. Especially because Dirty Dan and I have plans to get married as soon as the Supreme Court recognizes our love.
J. D. Watson, from English sacred poetry of the sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, by Robert Eldridge Aris Willmott, London, 1863.
“ One winter a Farmer found a Snake stiff and frozen with cold. He had compassion on it, and taking it up, placed it in his bosom. The Snake was quickly revived by the warmth, and resuming its natural instincts, bit its benefactor, inflicting on him a mortal wound. “Oh,” cried the Farmer with his last breath, “I shall never live to see the Dawn of Technology.” -”
2011: The most powerful website in the world creates a social network.
2019: One third of the world belongs to the network.
2045: World War III begins.
2046: World War III ends.
2047: The internet is outlawed.
2065: Monkeys begin talking.
2082: The flying car is replaced with a flying talking monkey.
1987: Time Machines are invented.
456 BC: Martin Stevensonon, Professor of Time Mechanics at Ball State University, murders Aeschylus, playwright and soldier, by chucking a turtle at his head.
2004. They’re selling ice-cream in the parking lot!
2011: What were we talking about again?