I Meet My Future Self – HumorOutcasts.com


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I used to be cursing at my printer when Shazzam! somebody wanting rather a lot like myself  and dressed just about the identical materialized to my left.

“What ho,” I mentioned, “you appear like me. Am I in addition to myself?”

“Hee, hee,” he mentioned, “I see what you probably did there. Actually, I’m you from the long run. I’ve come to let you understand what may occur to you, so you possibly can put together.”

I requested, “How far into the long run?”

“Ten minutes.”

I shrugged. “Anyway, are you able to repair this fecking piece of crap pc?”

“No,” mentioned future me (FM), “Printers hate me, will hate you, as a lot as they hate you now?”

I flipped off the printer. “You stinking lutefisk.”

“Certainly.”

I hung my head. “Life is tough.”

FM put a hand on my shoulder. Let’s say it was his proper hand on my left shoulder. It might have been his left hand on my proper shoulder. There’s numerous freedom within the first draft.

Whereas we waited for my weblog self to cease ruminating, I attempted cancelling the print order by all issues, urgent the stop-printing thingy. It will not cancel. We tried going to POS 2000 printer icon on the desk high and clicking on cease print job. Bloody feck! Nothing occurred. We tried turning the pc on and off. The printer remained frozen. We unplugged the printer and made a quick sacrifice to a Mayan monkey god.  Then FM plugged within the pc and rebooted. We managed to cancel the print job.

The printer peformed a variety of noisy incantations to its evil grasp and spat a take a look at web page.

I checked out my future self and mentioned, “It’s crunch time” as I clicked on print.

After which the acquainted sound of an enormous wheeler downshifting on a steep contaminated the air round us as a web page crumpled to its dying.

We stared at one another and mentioned, “I fecking hate printers.”

Synapses fired as I lastly realized the complete import of getting future coming to go to. Coming to import life altering info.

“So,” I mentioned, “What did come again in time to inform me?”

“Current Paul,” he mentioned, “I braved temporal eddies to say . . .”

Beep! Poof! And like that he was gone. His ten minutes have been up.

That’s the final time I time journey.

 

­– Paul De Lancey, The Comedian Chef, Ph.D.

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Try my novel, the hilarious apocalyptic thriller, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms? It’s revealed by HumorOutcasts and is obtainable in paperback or Kindle on amazon.com



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