Yesterday afternoon, a rugged FedEx worker, mid 50s, but surprisingly built, accosted me. He looked terrified (and oddly familiar), almost as if he were delivering orders for his own execution. After I signed for my package, he clumsily dropped his pen and ran toward his truck while he screamed, “Keep it, you monster! It’s only a company pen, anyways!” I picked it up and looked down into my porcelain hands. Sure enough. It was indeed only a FedEx pen. I always have the worst of luck. Anyways, I proceeded to open the package, expecting it to be my Magic School Bus Early Readers paperback collection. However, all I found was a poorly written letter. It had been hastily stuffed into a McDonald’s apple pie box and sealed with a cleverly crafted wax kiss that smelled of mint chocolate and Warheads. The letter was written on a napkin, scribbled with glistening mercury and what I can only assume was BBQ sauce (perhaps blood). I began to tremble and drool as I recognized the odd writing’s inverted grammatical syntax, the surplus of parenthetical phrases and the crude sketching of a hungry hungry hippo in the upper left corner. I knew exactly who had written this letter. It read:
Dear Joshua,
First off, I apologize for the odd behavior of my minion, Zachary. He is an inconsequential Kentuckian time mule who, if I programmed correctly, should have either returned to 2047 or spontaneously combusted upon your opening of the apple pie box. Remember when you were 10 and you promised yourself that if you ever needed to contact yourself from another time, you would use a Hungry Hungry Hippo as a code of trust? Well, Joshua (or J-Dog, as you will soon be called), “It’s me. Alan,” (it’s obviously future Josh, but that’s my favorite line from “Jumanji”). I am writing from 2047, where I am happily married to Aubrey Anderson-Emmons (Lily, from Modern Family — we just got married recently, it’s not weird), the proud owner of the Confederate States (yeah, they’re back and they’re mine), and People Magazine’s 2045 Sexiest Man Alive (due to a recent redefinition of the word “man”). I am shaven, happy and my toothbrush just told me that, judging by today’s plaque build-up, my probable life expectancy is 137. I have several very important things to tell you, Josh, so get cozy on the brown couch and pay attention (the blue one’s gonna break tomorrow).
No. 1 Money is a scam. The general public only recently learned that it is completely legal to walk into any store, take anything you wish and walk out. The authorities can only arrest you for being sneaky about it. Being human entitles you to everything you want. Never forget it. The institution of money was created by the same prankster who invented oven-preheating time, yield signs, Blu-rays, broccoli, France, toenails and BMIs.
No. 2 Don’t trust Bieber (unless you liked the Holocaust).
No. 3 The career of Adele will blow your mind. You’d be wise to follow her career. She went mainstream, lowstream, vintage, retro, druggie-rock, disappeared for four years that she claims not to remember, revival, survival, viral, sex change, techno, screamo, Broadway, sex change, soul sister and then sitcom. All before 2017. Let’s just say that it only gets better from there (she’s the Queen of Africa right now). Never let go of her.
No. 4 Don’t eat that sausage you find on the beach next Tuesday. Unless you wanted to skip April anyways. The grilled cheese is fine.
No. 5 CONVOCATION IS ON YOUR TRANSCRIPT. But it’s OK because you never really wanted a job anyway.
Hey, J-Dog, my Hot Pocket’s done cooking (yeah, they’re still around), so I gotta wrap this up. Just keep smiling and remember to do the exact opposite of what society tells you to.
Demilovato (we say that now — it means “of my little love”),
J-Dog
P.S. Our teddy bear Benjamin was elected president of Uganda in 2012. NEVER release that footage of his nudie rant around our room, OK?
