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Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Conclave of the Great Illuminati - Or My Husband and Friends Come Out to Play

Okay this was a Facebook exchange that my husband started that had me cracking up a few weeks ago. This is pretty much how our relationship goes with our friends and between my hubby and me.

Hubby: Vote for me in 2016…I promise research into giant robots and I will fund that Death Star they’ve all been raving about. America will tread noisily and carry a bit stick…or a giant ball of death…whatever just vote for me.

Disney Dave: First we need Wookie slaves to build it…

Hubby:  Ooooo…ixnay on the slave talk. I prefer to call them a grand fathered in labor force. Don’t want any Django Wookies running around…

The Ginger Ninja: Who are we going to point the Death Star at?

Disney Dave: I say Uranus… never saw the need for that planet.

Hubby: Does it really matter who it’s pointed at? It will just be comforting to see it hanging like a jewel in the sky…

Disney Dave: Might be cheaper to just put a laser on the moon and call it a “Death Star.”

Ginger Ninja: Is Pluto a planet today? They seem like they can’t make up their mind on that one, maybe we should blow that out of the sky and end the debate on it.

Hubby: Moon laser…I’m down with that and we’ve already cut costs! Ginger Ninja…I agree with the Pluto scenario, let’s act that sucker.

Tall Dave: We can’t go to the moon remember, we were warned not to come back the last time we were there, from the aliens who live on the “dark side of the moon!” Lol!!

Hubby:  Forgot about that. Okay, first item on the presidential agenda, lay siege to the moon, so I guess we’re building mech suits, and transports…then, giant moon laser. Being president is awesome…

Hubby: You know…this feels like I may need more than four or eight years…Vote me in as God Emperor!!!!

White Hubby: Are you going to turn into a giant sandworm hybrid? Because I want our nation run by good, god-fearing homo-sapiens, not any weird spice-begotten sandworm hybrids. I’ll settle for homo-sapiens superior, if they’re of the Xavier stripe and not going by the name “Magneto.”

Magic Micah: Sounds like a good platform, dude. Promise to raise the sunken city of R’Lyeh and waken Great Cthulhu, and you’ve got my vote.

Margie: We all know what happened to the God Emperor.

Hubby:  First off, White Hubby, I have never had the spice…despite rumors to the contrary, though I have heard rumors hat it is life. Magic Micah, my first action during my initial hundred year reign will be to find R’Lyeh with James Cameron’s help, raise it and make it my Camp David. Margie…I sense you may betray me, but my assassins will convey my undying love for you when the time for you retiring arrives…

Margie: You’d better tell those assassins to voodoo my ass when they come to retire me, because I’ll be coming for you. That voodoo might not work either.

Hubby: After consulting with my campaign manager I have come to the realization that Margie is an integral part of my reign. Losing her would be detrimental to my emotional well-being and therefore the well-being of my subjects. Long may Margie live…I approve this message…

Margie: Good to see that your self-preservation instincts are alive and kicking.

Hubby: I am a man of the people…a married man of the people…

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