When I become God...
March 3, 2018
When there is foul weather on a Sunday afternoon, there will something on TV you actually want to watch.
Baby diapers will be self-replacing.
No one will hate himself in the morning unless he actually did do something awful.
Harley Davidsons will not make noise, but they will fly.
When you scratch your head indoors, overhead lighting will blink.
Most dogs will run free, but all mosquitoes will be kept on leashes.
Cars will run on clarinet music; the fastest cars will run on klezmer.
Popcorn husks with not grab the back of your tongue.
All the crosses atop Christian churches will be replaced by much more humane guillotines.
The cosmos will revert to good old geocentricism, until anybody out there objects.
The nighttime sky between midnight and one o'clock will be programmable.
Jesus will multiply fishes and loaves at Whole Foods like there's no tomorrow (or afterlife), and prices will beoome affordable.
Presidents and prime ministers will be chosen by voting for the best stand-up comics.
Snowflakes will tickle, and acid rain will be pleasantly hallucinogenic.
Every pet store will have a Doberman rescue department.
Buddha will go on a diet.
When it rains cats and dogs, they will be kittens and puppies.
Every bathroom will have a body-length blow dryer.
All barns will start out two hundred years old.
All paperwork will be accomplished by goats, and they will produce fine fertilizer.
Everyone will have a photographic memory and a delete button.
All national anthems will be Chuck Berry songs.