By the time I have these systems installed in my parents' homes, I'm hoping they will have a red alert—complete with flashing alarm and buzzers—that will let me know if they have any fun, so I can call them up and tell 'em to knock it off.

Of course, 3-4 decades down the line when my nieces and nephews are catering to my every whim looking after me, all the kinks will be worked out, and I'll get notices by email: "the System tells us you didn't get out of bed today. Are you all right?"

"Fine," I'll respond. "I was just reading a good book, so I didn't bother. However, I'm on my last 100 pages or so, and I know who the killer is, anyway. Bring over some more weed, booze, and pizza, mmkay?"

Oh. I mean, "medical marijuana." Does THC go bad? 'Cause, like, maybe I should be stocking up now.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:18 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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