galvanists:
the year is 2039. i step outside my tenement in order to catch the TeslaBus shuttle that ferries me to my Amazon fulfillment center job. the chip in my hand beeps, reminding me to drink my SkinnyGurlLivin™ meal shake before the window for optimal nutrient absorption passes. it tastes like astroturf but i can feel my bowels rioting in response, so i know it must be working to help me be my best self. on my way to the shuttle stop ten blocks away i pass twelve holo-adverts of fast food gijinka mascots. the Burger King hologram has hamburger buns for breasts and attempts to seduce me, flashing her panties and following me for a full block until her holo-tether reaches the end of its broadcasting field and she blinks out of existence. “dude, you know you crave those burgs like i crave the sweet release of death, asdfghkld” are her last words. i dont know how she said a keysmash out loud. when she disappears i am briefly saddened by the abrupt feeling that once again, i am alone. her brightly colored buxom form may have been nothing but an illusion, but it was the only humanoid interaction i have had this morning. the heel of my vegan leather boot suddenly catches on a sidewalk crack and peels off from the sole. i sigh. that’s the third pair of boots i’ve had to buy this month. now limping awkwardly, i pull out my AmazonPhone Ozymandias and place another order for boots. finally i am at the TeslaBus stop. twenty five of us huddle under the heat lamp for warmth. the sides of the shelter are screens broadcasting advertisements for the new PowyrWomyn Labial Lipstick. “nothing makes me feel like i have rights more than applying Melon Pink to my nether region to make the boys go craaaaazy” the spokesmodel says. “men love empowered pussies.” the screen shifts to a newsreel and everyone at the shuttle stop immediately begins to zone out. “we’re very proud of the brave work our Freedom Drones are doing out on the battlefield. support your robo-troops today.” i can’t remember what battlefield the newsman is referring to. there are so many wars right now, it’s hard to keep track. after an hour, the TeslaBus finally arrives. this is actually pretty good time. usually it’s two hours. we all scramble to get onto the shuttle, pushing and shoving and clawing at each other. the Amazon Center only has so many available jobs per day, so we have to literally battle each other for the right to work there. with minimal damage (only a bloody nose and a small bite on my forearm) i manage to secure a seat near the front of the TeslaBus. an older woman eyes me, and i bare my teeth and hiss at her to signify that i am young, virile, and will defend my prime seat to the death. she drops her gaze. satisfied, i carefully crack open the tiny strongbox that houses my Model XVII AirPods. each one is the size and shape of a grain of rice. the audio quality is terrible, but it’s a long commute, and if i am unable to drown out the moans and groans of my fellow prospective Amazon workers, i may succumb to Shuttle Fever and attempt to throw myself out a window.
princeowl:
spooky-spiderwebs:
tescosfinest:
mygarrison:
tescosfinest:
AMERICA DOESNT KNOW THE JOY OF TERRYS CHOCOLATE ORANGE
WHAT THE HECK IS THAT I SWEAR TO GOD IF THIS IS ANOTHER FANTASTIC CANDY WE’RE MISSING I
heaven
HOW DO YOU GUYS LIVE WITHOUT TERRY’S
who’s gonna go over to fish and chips piss city and tell these british wanks chocolate oranges exist everywhere
obamasnow:
obamasnow:
today some guy very confidently ordered a “Busted Nut Parfait” on drive thru without hesitation and i had to ask if he meant a peanut buster parfait without crying
update: today someone asked for a peanut buster parfait with “light syrup and heavy nut” and i laughed from the ice cream machine and he heard me