We Should All Be Psychic
Mr. Pabulum is in the lab right now, working on a brain implant that will allow us to beam Hollywood movies directly into your brain. The current problem is that it's erasing your current memories in order to do it. We had one "volunteer" recently who can't remember his first kiss, his mother's funeral, and whether or not he left the iron on, because that area of his cerebellum has been overwritten with selected scenes from Armageddon 2: Armageddoner.
This whole process has made me consider what it would be like to be truly psychic, and I've come to this conclusion: I think it would be nice if everyone was psychic. Not psychic enough to read people's minds, but just psychic enough that you would know when someone was thinking about you when masturbating.
You don't even need to know WHO is thinking about you while pleasuring themselves, just that someone is. It would give you a rosy good feeling of well-being and joy, to know that you've brought some pleasure into someone else's life.
Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie would have a constant glow of happiness, since pretty much every second of every day, dozens of people think about them while whackin' it.
Even unattractive people would benefit - admit it, sometimes when you're in the middle of manipulating your own erogenous zones, your mind wanders. Well, if you're rubbin' the nubbin one day, and your mind switches tacks to your To-Do List for that day, just think of the brief moment of happiness you will bring to your friendly neighborhood grocer, butcher, and bank attendant.
If you see someone having a bad day and want to cheer them up, all you gotta do is find some semi-secluded area and rub yourself (and him or her) to happiness. It's a win-win.
It could even be a path toward world peace - imagine a million Israelis and a million Palestinians all jerkin the gherkin while thinking about each other. Everyone would be too happy and content to bother fighting. (Not to mention, have you ever tried to fire an AK-47 with just one hand?)
People in general would be nicer to each other, because nice people get fantasized about more than assholes. (Well, more than people-who-are-assholes, not necessarily more than ass holes themselves. There's a lot of fantasizing going on about that wacky chocolate starfish.)
I've been fine-tuning the implant Mr. Pabulum put in me as one of his first "volunteers," and I think I'm ready to test this. Everyone, quick, start playing with yourself while you think of me. I'll report back if I get a rosy glow of well-being and joy.
C'mon, what can it hurt? You might like it. I know I will.
This whole process has made me consider what it would be like to be truly psychic, and I've come to this conclusion: I think it would be nice if everyone was psychic. Not psychic enough to read people's minds, but just psychic enough that you would know when someone was thinking about you when masturbating.
You don't even need to know WHO is thinking about you while pleasuring themselves, just that someone is. It would give you a rosy good feeling of well-being and joy, to know that you've brought some pleasure into someone else's life.
Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie would have a constant glow of happiness, since pretty much every second of every day, dozens of people think about them while whackin' it.
Even unattractive people would benefit - admit it, sometimes when you're in the middle of manipulating your own erogenous zones, your mind wanders. Well, if you're rubbin' the nubbin one day, and your mind switches tacks to your To-Do List for that day, just think of the brief moment of happiness you will bring to your friendly neighborhood grocer, butcher, and bank attendant.
If you see someone having a bad day and want to cheer them up, all you gotta do is find some semi-secluded area and rub yourself (and him or her) to happiness. It's a win-win.
It could even be a path toward world peace - imagine a million Israelis and a million Palestinians all jerkin the gherkin while thinking about each other. Everyone would be too happy and content to bother fighting. (Not to mention, have you ever tried to fire an AK-47 with just one hand?)
People in general would be nicer to each other, because nice people get fantasized about more than assholes. (Well, more than people-who-are-assholes, not necessarily more than ass holes themselves. There's a lot of fantasizing going on about that wacky chocolate starfish.)
I've been fine-tuning the implant Mr. Pabulum put in me as one of his first "volunteers," and I think I'm ready to test this. Everyone, quick, start playing with yourself while you think of me. I'll report back if I get a rosy glow of well-being and joy.
C'mon, what can it hurt? You might like it. I know I will.
posted by Steve Barr at 1:57 PM
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