As I started shaving this morning, Michelle Obama's holographic image suddenly appeared in the steam-fogged mirror crudely pixelated with severe jagged edges, as if she were a poorly done photoshop by someone in a hurry to get to work on time. She wore a silver, art deco-inspired gown that looked sorta like aluminum foil, and clashed with my shower curtain.
Me: Mrs. Obama? Is that you, or are you some spirit come to warn me about something?
Michelle: Well, both. I am appearing via streaming video from the White House to all the citizens who failed to tune in to the Oscars last night to witness my surprise appearance there.
Me: As difficult as it was to not tune into the show to watch self-indulgent and arrogant Hollywood lib types like George Clooney and Ben Affleck give each other awards and pats on the back for a "job well done" playing make-believe pretend in front of a camera in movies I have never seen (or intend to), I was otherwise detained.
Michelle: You just may be detained mister. Apparently, you don't understand the complicated logistics of pulling off that top secret feed. The President is very insistant that ALL THE CITIZENS hear the message that "we can overcome any obstacle," and all the other surreptitious and subliminal messages to the citizens.
As much as I tried to fight off her voice, I felt myself being hypnotized and as dumbed-down as a democrat. I remember mumbling "hope"... "change".... and then I passed out.
I awoke in front of the bathroom sink with my forehead planted on the linoleum, pointing in an easterly direction towards the throne of Washington where I download my orders.
The throne of Washington is a pet name I gave to my toilet. Time to download.
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