Thursday, October 4, 2012

I wish I were... an Oscar Meyer Weiner!

It's cool how everything I think can so easily turn full circle.

If I were only a Borg...then I might possibly have an ocular implant that generates holographic images of what I'm thinking. Then instead of making people read these long, boring posts about nothing, I could show them my every dream in 3d and slightly green tinted and wavy living color. Would that be fun or what?

Of course if I were a Borg there'd be that whole communal mind thing, so I'd have to show you images from others' brains...and then as these things always happen, we would fight over who's images are more important or relevant and I'd have to collectively prioritize the images allowing you to vote on who's is worthy and show the results on line in some freaking poll format. And when some inevitably find out they lack an audience they would be unhappy, if Borgs can be unhappy, and go whining to the Queen Borg that I'm using my implant for purposes other than it's designers intended; not because it really matters to them but because they don't have an ocular implant and it really pisses them off that I do. Fuck!

The resistance is few-tile thing would be fun, but I dunno if I could take the jealousy of my co-drones; and if I just removed the damn implant to make everyone happy, well then of course I'd be railed for giving up, tossing in the towel, bending to another's whim, overreacting yet again... and that would be as unbearable as just keeping the damn implant and trying to work out a compromise. But dammit I wouldn't want to, you know I wouldn't want to and if it's that obvious that I'm unhappy, if Borgs can be unhappy, then why would you get all upset if I just took the damn thing out and left it on my nightstand like old people do with their teeth? Shit!

Maybe they'd let me fly the cube once in a while, can you imagine?!? That'd be so cool it makes me giggle like a schoolgirl!; but then they'd probably want me to come to the ship's cafeteria every few days and use my implant to broadcast video of my view from the captain's chair while they stuff themselves with popped corn and sugared, shaved ice for some outrageous charge per serving. I'd never be left alone, it'd be "hey 16 of 16, come show us a story" every goddamn day as if I have nothing else to do with my time but entertain people by televising Star Trek reruns outa my useta be human but now it's some freaking movie projector eyeball when everybody knows I'd rather be the arteest and create like Quentin Terrin-fucking-tino. Crap!

Meeting Jean-Luc would be the greatest presuming I'd be there at the time when he was still the Queen's bitch...Damn! Sir what's his face in person! Way Cool! Ya think he'd gimme his autograph? 'Course then as payback for signing my good eye he'd likely want to compare specifications between his implants and mine, and no doubt would constantly be asking me to remove my ocular implant so he could take it home and study it as if he had some scientific interest...when really he just wants to make Deana Troy and her huge knockers a 3d hologram he might gaze on for a while. I always thought he was just a horny old man, "Engage" indeed! Wanker!

It's all the damn ocular implant's fault. Fuck! Mom always told me "if you run around with that sharp stick you're gonna fall down and poke your eye out!" How'd I know that it'd come true and then years later the Borg would assimilate me and use my poor empty eye socket for a large screen tv projector! I coulda been popular if they hadn't screwed me up, I'm a pretty nice guy mosta the time, I didn't deserve this! I coulda had one of those powersaws that jumps outa my arm after my fake hand is removed! THAT woulda been cool!

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