“Day one dictator” sounds good to MAGA does it?

Let’s have a wee peek into the future of Murica, shall we?

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages — step right up for today is a very special day, a very special day indeed. For today, I shall transport you from the mere text of this essay, away from your work desks, doctor’s waiting rooms or toilet seats, and dispatch you through the constructs of time and space.

A roundtrip journey into our country’s not-so-distant future.

To the year 2044.

But how, you may be asking. ‘I don’t see a Time Machine, and you’re just a mom in the Jersey suburbs. Don’t you drive a Kia?’

Never fear dear friends & fellow journeymen — my trusted time machine is not just any old vessel; it is in fact a portal to the FUTURE! (My Kia is just a Kia, it really is a rather reliable car if I’m being honest, and I have to say that I’ve had very little room for complaint plus the gas mileage is really great for a vehicle that size, but I digress). And as an aside I’ve been to Spaceship Earth at Epcot, more than once, so I’m a fully qualified tour guide through the corridors of time.

We don’t need to worry about gas mileage where we’re going for we are headed into… the FUTURE (I realize I said that already, but I really wanted to set up this next little bit so just indulge me ok plus my kid is home sick with Covid and I haven’t had a lot of adult conversation the past few days so…)

The FUTURE — a realm yet uncharted, it unfolds like the petals of a cosmic flower, revealing the untold possibilities that lie ahead. It is a tapestry woven with the threads of progress, a canvas painted with the hues of innovation. Tomorrow beckons as a frontier of endless potential, a symphony of advancements playing on the stage of time, shaped by the hands of human ingenuity.

As we stand on the precipice of what is to come, the future whispers promises of discovery, transformation, and the perpetual dance of change.

Well, at least that’s what the brochure says anyway.

So, hurry now and secure your seat (or if you’re already sitting, keep doing that especially if you’re on the shitter), and let’s make history together!

*special priority seating for MAGA and anyone who says they don’t like either candidate and therefore won’t be voting, I really want you to get a good look.

[whoosh sounds, flashing lights, random shakes & vibrations]

And we have arrived. As I said, this is the year is 2044. Have a look out your windows as I secure our vessel and make sure to disguise myself really, really well.

Oh… why do I need to do that, you ask?

Oh, umm… no reason 👀. But do have a look around before we disembark.

Ma & Pa MAGA are seated in the front row. They’re looking out the window a little bit confused because the tour guide (me) had said they were headed into America’s future, but the flag they can see flying above one of the official looking buildings doesn’t look familiar at all.

“Must be one of them woke flags.” Pa MAGA says. “Woke Libtards have taken over the place, Ma!”

Ma MAGA puts her Medicaid-covered glasses on to help her see. “I really can’t make it out Pa, there’s a face on there, but I don’t know who it is.”

And with that I’m back and ready to commence with the tour. My best advice to you all is to keep a low profile. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t ask questions, and if anyone asks you for your papers, whatever you do, don’t run.

What do I mean by papers?

Umm, nothing. It’s umm not important… 👀

So here we go.

Welcome to Austin Texas! Just up ahead is the Capitol building, but that’s one of our last stops.

Let’s stroll down Sixth Street for a bit first.

Tomothy, a disillusioned non-voter excitedly turns to his friend Ophelia, who regularly reminds her 13,000 TikTok followers that voting is useless and that they’re sheep for thinking otherwise, and he says, “I’ve been here a thousand times, my favorite music venue is on this street!”

“I’ve been here too.” Ophelia adds. “I’ve was pretty shitfaced though, so I don’t remember much.”

But as we begin walking, they can’t help but noticing that something is different. It’s quiet. Eerily so. The usual buzz of activity, the cacophony of music, the hum of conversation, clinging of glasses, and bursts of laughter are missing. There are very few people on the street. It feels like a ghost town, but it’s not quite abandoned. They notice that there are a few people in one the bars, so they decide to take a peek inside.

As they open the door, the room comes to a standstill. All eyes turn to the young woman.

Ophelia feels their eyes on her. She swallows hard and she quickly scans the room. What was this, some kind of private old white bros club, she wondered. And that’s when the bartender cleared his throat and pointed to the sign on the door which read, “By order of the government, all women are prohibited from consuming alcohol in the United State of Murica. I hear by demand it, your favorite President.”

The gobsmacked time travelers turn to each other and without saying a word, they slowly turn around and head out the door.

Ophelia wants to know where all the women are? Oh, ok. So let’s show her shall we?