2020 Visualations |
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We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives. Since the Dawn of Time, men have sought to understand things which have not yet happened, but it's only with the advent of Techno Blog that we've really stood a chance of knowing what will be what. Let's take a look into the everyday life of an ordinary man, who juts happens to live in April 2020... 6:30am - woken by the sound of N-Dubz, rapping a cover version of the
national anthem outside my window. In order to combat the national laziness
epidemic, David Cameron's government has installed a nationwide PA system broadcasting positivity-enriched motivating music, which wakes the population up at a pre-arranged time each morning. 7:12am - driving to work in my hybrid self-driving car, built by Reliant
(who spectacularly re-emerged from obscurity in 2012, following a 25% drop
in worldwide tyre availability, coinciding with an amusing internet craze
for driving three wheeled cars). Some other car's onboard computer had road
rage with me and tried to intentionally ram me off the road, but cars are
now effectively crash-proof and I laughed it off in a cordial fashion with
the fellow in the other Reliant. I'm not really driving to work, because in
2020 everybody works from home, but society hasn't quite got over the 9:35am - back home at my work office at last, traffic was terrible due to
the new Post Office. Although they closed for business in 2015, local
authorities soon had to open them back up as social centres for the elderly, otherwise the poor buggers would have nowhere to go to get in 10:40am - Self-conditioning boxer shorts have crashed again. This has been happening a lot since the 1st January, when the (largely unexpected) Y2K+20 bug put in an appearance, creating global chaos. I will, for now, have to fashion myself some sort of underpant by securing a towel around myself and locking it in place with a safety pin. 13:05 - I had to take a half day today to pick up my son as the BBC Space Forecast
thinks the solar flares will be particularly bad this afternoon. Probably
see if I can reboot the fridge and get it to make me some ice cream whilst
the scalding weather lasts as tomorrow will probably bring the usual
floods. Must pick up some of more daily flu jabs for the kids and some
plutonium for the house reactor. It's become really expensive since the
last barrel of oil was pulled out of West Lothian last june. I'll pop into
the Tesco's at the school. 15:40 - didn't hear from my son for a while, then got a video call from my clone in Cheltenham. Apparently, he "thought" he had custody this week and picked him up from the school gates before I got there. He does this often, and it's very annoying! I've made a mental note to take out another huge loan in his name at the weekend. That'll teach him.
19:30 - The house has just shaken violently for 3 minutes. I lay on the
floor under my antique Ikea coffee table, they really new how to build
stuff back then. When it stopped I noticed some things had changed. The car
in the drive was a different model, the walls in the kitchen were painted a 21:00 - There's a lot of email spam about right now, concerning the EU Presidential Election next month. The system is much stricter now than when we first began having presidents; Simon Cowell, sits behind a desk in The Hague with Jordan and Wayne Rooney, and they give each candidate a 30 second audition. I really hope the Germans don’t re-elect The Hoff. 10:35pm - It's been a stressful day and I'm trying to get some shut-eye. I left the bedroom door open, and the multimedia screenoid in the next room is still showing Man TV. Right now, Ross Kemp is hosting an upbeat program about giant diggers, standing next to the machines in a hard hat with a load of girls in bikinis, shouting over the engine. I find the sound of his voice soothing. Hopefully tomorrow the world will make sense, but for now I need my hip flask of whiskey... *sob* 10:36 - Damn those time-meddling tossers in Switzerland. My whiskey has turned into a sausage roll and my pocket smells like a Greggs.
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