In the year 4025

I got to thinking on Friday that a guy by the name of Jesus was wondering around the middle east (and maybe France too) a couple thousand years ago, and told folks that it would be to their benefit to be nice to each other. Then, a couple hundred years later, some blokes wrote it all down the exact way it happened. Then, 2000 years later, a couple million people sign up for blog accounts and write shit exactly how it happens.

I wonder if those of us involved in the blogosphere will be looked at as chriniclers of a particular time or sumpin in the future. In case that does happen, I better do some chroniclin'. Here I go.

"And the Ball with a numerical value of 8 was held to the bosom of the Chosen One and shaken well. Crowds gathered as the Ball revealed it's secret and the people of the planet feasted on Dorritas and drank from plastic containers containing the ambrosia of Pepsye.

All rejoiced when the Ball's magical, mysterious answer to the question of the ages was revealed. It solemnly showed, "Yes."

With upliftment in the hearts of beasts and men, all began churning the butter of peace and spraying the fresh scent of Fabreeze on thier linens. A cloud of dust and those twirly leaves from the trees that children hold dear, arose to the sky above and in this cloud appeared a face so terrifying yet holy that the people cringed, vomited, then bowed to it.

"Praise you, oh dust devil!", they shouted out with glee.

It was then that the heathens from the south invaded the lands and raped it merily. They took the change from underneath cushions and programmed the image givers to show nothing but plays of reality. The southerners poisoned food and water and their overweight frames jiggled when they walked and they giggled when they talked, thinking it made the world go round, round, round.

Then, the Chosen One, Ball with the numerical value of 8 held high for all to see, came prancing in like an imp from a rainbow signed night club and muttered in a voice that should not have been heard by anyone, yet was heard by all, "Hey, get out of here unless you're in the parade!"

It was then that the waters became unpoisoned, and the food became pallatable, and the disease became curable, and the Mott became Hoopable. It was then that those of the south packed up and moved to eastern lands where they set up kiosks and sold various wares of questionable quality.

Amen

K, bye for now.