Dear Inventors...
Could someone please invent something to mow my yard?
And please clean my dishes too?
Roomba's nice,
So how about we get the price to just a buck or two?
Okay, stop. Writing poetry is hard. It has to rhyme and junk. Let's switch over to just normal stuff, shall we? I figure that requires enough little neurons firing already.
Honestly, how much time in the day is spent with the mundane, ordinary, every day, [insert additional adjective meaning the same, redundant thing] chores around the house? No, I don't want to do my laundry anymore. I have things to do. No, I don't want to pressure wash the deck, nor does water sealing it sound like a splendid, good time. I just want to sit on my fat, lazy butt and play Mortal Kombat all day, every day, without fail. I may spend the caloric output needed to switch over to Hulu and watch reruns of The Office... but that's my limit!
Seriously... I don't want to feed the dogs. I don't want to water them. I don't want to do groceries, or drive, or take a walk just because my calf muscles are deteriorating. Machines should be able to do that. And I don't want to chew my Big Mac just to be able to enjoy it before washing it down with a vanilla shake (and mighty nice whipped cream may I add) - is there not some blasted machine that can get that pumped straight to the right taste buds for my enjoyment?
Ugh, I don't want to go on dates or get to know women. They should just love me for the blob of glory that I am. Honestly, there should be a line at my door right now of hot, athletic, genius women. I have no idea why that isn't happening. And I would rather like it if vegetables would grow straight out of the ground with no effort whatsoever. I mean, what was God thinking when He failed to realize that filet mignon plants should sprout like dandelions all around my fence? Of course, you know if He did, He'd forget to have 'em medium rare... you'd probably have to actually cook the darn things.
I just want to lay in a waterbed and never get up. Just let me control Pacman with eye movements and have everything handed to me on a silver - nay - platinum tray. I want to be bathed and scrubbed by a Honduran maid from a bucket of pure Perrier. I want to be lavished with exotic delicacies and pulled in a beautiful carriage by a herd of wild zebras. And you know what? While we're at it, I want a tail. A glorious, wonderful tail so that I can control a mouse while I simultaneously type on the keyboard. And both of those things already take way too much effort.
So how's about this? Why not just cut off my head, sustain it, drop it in a Futurama-esque bowl, and let me control some cybornetic body that requires absolutely no effort whatsoever? And I want endorphins pumped straight into my brain. Tons of 'em. I want to be happy all the time with no work whatsoever and for no reason at all.
And then I realize... "Hey, I actually like being busy, having to do things, and being active. Being totally lazy would be a real drag."
So get up and go do something today. You can be lazy and watch the world go by when you're decrepid. In the words of Michael King, "Carpe the day, baby!"
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