Vancouver 2010, February 17th (Presented By Lost: The Final Season). { 0 }
(Previously, on Vancouver 2010.)
The year is 2058. I’m in hell right now, not trouble, I’m in actual hell. And I’m here to tell you, it’s hot in here. And unfortunately, it’s not just me.
Being 87 years old is kind of a funny thing if funny meant depressing, ragged, and having a hate on for the government. But this place, this hell, is everything you’ve been thought to believe and then some.
The winter Olympics are on. Although, we don’t get to see them, just hear them. The only TV in hell is looping Weird Al videos all day, all night. It’s hell alright. To add insult to injury – or in this case, to add insult to third degree burns, the Olympics are being held in Iceland this year. At least that’s what I’m getting from the Icelandic radio station.
Oddly enough, I’m sitting with Weird Al drinking flat, tepid tonic water. Weird Al seems to be heaven, though. He’s smiling. I hate him. He’s not funny. And in hell, he’s even more unfunny. Nothing he says is remotely amusing.
But apparently, Weird Al is observant.
Hey look says Weird Al. What, I say. Isn’ t that a sheet of ice over there? You’re having a mirage again I say. No, says Weird Al, look closer Pet (Pet is Weird Al’s Pet name for me).
Weird Al was right. There was ice alright. But not only that, someone was gracefully skating on it. No. Could it be?
The moral of this post? Dear God, no!
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