I had a strange dream last night – about my town being quarantined.
My personal dreamweaver is pretty shitty most of the time at offering context. So, I have to assume that this quarantine that was taking place was the direct result of the recent contagion style fear sweeping the country in the form of these sporadic cases of Ebola and idiots bringing it in. Hopefully being town-bound won’t have to happen to any of us. Because I’ve really got no other place to go. And where would I go anyway? When it could be anywhere else I travel – or could spread there? Mind you, these aren’t hopeless rhetorical inquiries. As a solution seeker, I’m always looking for options that’re outside the box.
Or in today’s case – inside the ball. #prematurezing
The clear plastic ball.
Which is why when I read this headline today, I thought, “Great idea man!”
Why not try to escape ebola with the legs god gave you?
Who says you can’t outrun a deadly virus? Or walk on water? I’mma do both! So long, mother truckers! Enjoy the ride to the E.R. on your death trolley! I’mm a be rollin’ out across the ocean in my own inflatable universe of sterility and safety until I find a non-infected little island to hop on and start a new life like The Blue Lagoon, except without all the incestuous incest! Then, of course, I make the biggest mistake ever and clicked on the actual story link.
And read it.
This dude ain’t bout that survivor life. Homie’s just running an oceanic marathon in a giant beach ball. Eyeroll. What a basic ass bish. I mean who hasn’t done that in their life at least like five times? To be fair, my assumption reading this headline wasn’t 100% because I have an overactive imagination and always assume the weirdest. Especially after reading that Akon performed in the Congo and crowd surfed within the safety of a plastic bubble. “Gee,” I thought, as I read this as a tweet, “This isn’t news!” Then my second thought: “That was awful nice of him to do – still interacting with a buncha biohazard-level petri dishes of fans over there!”
“If this pops, I have pre-arranged for all your families to be murdered. #JusSayin”
Just like Jesus with the lepers.
Ya know, if Jesus had rolled into the colony in a transparent balloon.
Instead of that whole skin to skin up close and personal nonsense.
Either way, I think this’ll be better than the Chanel Hazmat suit that I’ve already bought. As for whether I use it to interact with my slowly dying loved ones who I failed to buy a ball of own (can’t be having a who wore it better issue here) like the magnanimous Akon did his fans – or just use it to Life of Pi my ass across the sea? We’ll decide that when it gets here. That is, if my dream wasn’t one’a my precognitive bout-to-happen ones. And the gov’ment lied. And the cases in D.C were f’real. And we ‘bout to get quarantined so I can’t run away.
(Unless I can upgrade to the bulletproof edition – then I can run roll to the ocean)
But if it was a premonition-dream, and if there’s a god, I ask only this:
Please let that part with the 7 A.M. ice cream truck style Starbucks van happen first.
#ThingsiCanDieHappyAfter