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Future Bob Fails to Prevent Senator's Death

October 28, 2002
The Future, TIME
Junior Bacon (inset: Future Webcam)
A solemn scene at an impromptu memorial for the late Sen. Wellstone... which could have been erased from history with better time-management skills by Future Bob (inset).
C
onfound it all!

Anger and severe frustration were the mood Monday, October 31—Halloween—2005 when Future Bob checked his notes for things to do and realized he had forgotten to prevent the death of Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone.

Wellstone, a passionate former college professor and left-leaning Democratic Senator from Minnesota, was killed in October, 2002 in some sort of plane crash that also claimed the lives of members of his family and those aboard the plane. The details are long since lost to the ravages of time to 2005-dwelling Future Bob.

Prevention of the plane crash was on Future Bob's "to-do" list in the year 2005, though like many other events of that year have been unfortunately forgotten in time to change the future. Future Bob, ...Read more...


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June 24, 2002

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Yours Truly For Four Easy Payments of $39.95

First off, do you know the names of those damn Umpa Lumpas who released their wreath on me? I think I might have winged one of them with an empty whiskey bottle, but those buggers do scurry off rather fast. Really, I just want to give the thing back, it's a pretty nice wreath. Lots of little chipmunk heads on it, with nametags like "Alvin" and "Dale". Quite strange. I don't think I've ever seen a blue chipmunk before... "Smurfette?" Quite an odd name for a chipmunk.

Anyway, I left a note on the window of their Suburban (silly little Lumpas, running off and leaving their truck parked in front of my place) saying they could come by and pick up the wreath some time, but you know... I don't think those little buggers can read all that well. I've heard bad things about the school system in that Chocolate Factory. A terrible Lumpa-to-Wonka ratio.

That was phonetically a very strange sentence. Lumpa-to-Wonka ratio? Sounds like a Native American classic rock station. "You're listening to Loompatuwanka Radio! Keep on rockin' in the free Res!" Man, all I'm saying is get a piece of me now before somebody buys up the sitcom rights.

See what you people do to me? I'm babbling like a brook. And not even a very smart brook, more like a Brooke Shields.

I'm really starting to wonder if I returned that paperback copy of "Steel Magnolias" I was borrowing from Lil Duncan. Man, I probably put it in the drop slot at Hollywood Video again. I'm...Read more...


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September 2, 2002

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Lube the Tuber

I've got the word "cambria" stuck in my head for some reason. No idea what it means. Some sort of strange deja-vu like when you think you should recognize a name and then two weeks later it turns out that was the guy you shot accidentally while turkey hunting. No leads yet on this one, though, and I haven't been turkey hunting in years.

Few things are more unsettling than waking up in the middle of the night and finding yourself floating naked in the middle of outer space, like the baby at the end of 2001. The movie, not the year. Shit if that wouldn't have been scary, waking up one December morning to see a giant baby up there in the sky and suddenly regretting every time you'd ever covered a baby in turtle wax and set it loose on your hood to wax your car. Who'd have thought the payback time would come so soon? Crimeny.

But like I said, I'm talking about the movie, with me floating in space instead of the baby. Neither dreaming nor awake in the traditional sense. Just staring down at the earth like it was a giant jawbreaker, glancing down at the thin, whispy umbilical cord that attaches you to the planet and thinking "Hmmm."

With your next thought you ponder your situation and realize that, in a symbolic sense, the earth represents the realm of your waking consciousness. No, really. The cloud layer girdling the globe keeps you warm and safe within the atmosphere, but at all times there remains the possibility of slipping undetected...Read more...


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Milestones
1750: Antonio Salieri, second-rate composer and eternal inspiration to the commune. His alleged murder of Mozart, as portrayed in Amadeus, forever encourages us in our war with Crochet! magazine.
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Stepchild. Just sit around and eat and drink me out of house and home without ever raising a finger. Hey, I'm talking to you, you little shit. There ain't no law says I got to be nice to you just 'cause I'm knocking boots with your mom.
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1.Smells Like Clean Spearmint
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Pat Cheeks
7/7/2003
The Adventures of Sollsberry Stake
It wus'n nigh on 4 of the clock when I seen Rush Steamshed, mah ol mate. Rush is'n a first-rate buddy, real true, too. He'sn the kinder feller what would punch 'is own head 'fore he'd a punch you. You know the kind—real stupid.

Rush wus'n playin on bein cowboys an injuns, but he'sn all lonesome goin 'bout it cuz'n it wuz only him. He ast me if'n I wanted to play with 'im, but I sed I wus'n too busy huntin up treasure.

"Why'sn you doin that, Sol?"

"Why, so's I kin bury it all over agin."

"Bury it?" he went a-repeatin'.

"Lawd yes!" I declared. "Cuz'n I'm a-playin pirates. That's what pirates do, Rush."

"Why bugger me stupid," sez Rush. "I ain't ever heard o' such a thing. I thought pirates wus'n all into rapin...Read more...

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