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Drunk to the Future

August 2, 2007

“Marlie wants a DeLorean,” says Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat.

“Why? She doesn’t drive,” I say. “She can’t drive. Especially not after showing up at the DMV with a six-pack of Harp. And the consequences of time travel are too vast for her to comprehend, considering all the whisky she drinks on a daily basis.”

“She wants one because DeLoreans were Irish-made cars,” says Bernie.

Northern Ireland, actually,” I say. “So they’re technically British.”

“Not to Marlie,” says Bernie. “It doesn’t matter what truce or peace settlement or international law was signed. To her, the entire island is Ireland, and if anyone says otherwise she’ll shove a pipe bomb up their arse.”

“Nice to see The Troubles aren’t over for Marlie,” I say.

“That’s why we don’t go any place where there’s double-decker buses,” says Bernie. “They set her off. Bad scene, man. Bad scene.”

“So what is Marlie going to do with a DeLorean that she can’t drive?” I ask.

“I don’t know, get full of Irish pride and slam people’s heads in the gullwing doors?” says Bernie. “Yeah, I know it’s crazy, but on the bright side at least she’s not asking for jewelry.”

Bernie has a problem with people wearing dangling jewelry. When he sees like a shiny necklace or shiny earrings dangling off someone he gets the irresistable urge to run up and start batting at it with his paws.  It makes for some very awkward moments.

“Hey, if you buy your wife a DeLorean can I take it out to pick up women?” I ask.

“What kind of woman is going to be turned on by someone driving a DeLorean?” asks Bernie.

“My kind of woman!” I say.

Bernie’s not buying a DeLorean, and I can’t buy one because my credit is bad. Apparently you can’t pay for real estate with a freezer full of stolen bodily organs.

3 comments

  1. If only life was this simple


  2. How come you never see DeLoreans any more? Shouldn’t they last forever, being made out of stainless steel?


  3. DeLoreans are still around . . . in the future.



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