Things I Was Promised that I Never Got

What with everyone going around all the time talking about how great technology is, what with these super-fast computers and automatic drip-coffee makers, no one ever stops to think about how disappointed I've been about all the stuff technology hasn't done.  I'll be fifty-four thirty-nine in a few more weeks, and those so-called scientists with their so-called ingenuity and all their so-called particle accelerators still haven't gotten around to getting some basic stuff accomplished, like for example jet packs.  By this time, everybody was supposed to have a personal jet pack you could just strap on and fly everywhere.  That would have been so cool, but where are they?  No where.

And how about space aliens?  Sure, we've got little alien skeletons and somewhere in Roswell, there's a whole alien corpse in a chest freezer, but on Star Trek, there'd be a new alien every week.  Lucky, most of them looked sort of like us and all of them spoke English.  Even if they were really strong or covered with scales or something, you can bet a human could beat them in a fair fight, if they had to put down their phasers to settle a bet for the Klonkin overlords.  And some of the alien women were really hot, too.  And they were wild for humans.  Whenever Captain Kirk ran across some kittenish little alien babe, pretty soon she'd be all over him asking him to teach her about this mysterious earth custom called, "kissing."

And how about talking dogs?  For heaven's sake, that ought to be easy!  Even Shaggy had a talking dog! Dick Dastardly had a talking dog - and he was one of the bad guys!  I mean, the dog wouldn't have to all the way talk, he's still just a dog after all, but he could talk a little.  Like, he'd have to start every word with an "r."  "Rerro," would be "hello," for example.  This is something that is way overdue and scientists ought to be working on instead of wasting all their time on malaria and stuff.

I'm starting to worry that these lazy no-good scientists are going to wait to the very last minute to come up with a way so when I'm dead they can saw off my head and keep it in a jar filled with chemicals and stuff and keep me alive until they can sew it back onto the hydroponically-grown body of a weight-lifter.  They've come up with all these new ways to boost testosterone, which I guess is a first step, but they better dang take care of that one, because at the rate they're going I'm never going to get a jet pack or a talking dog in this lifetime.  Actually, if they do that one thing, I guess I can wait for everything else if I have to.  Besides, alien babes would probably be more turned on if I had a better build and came from way back in the twenty-first century.  "Tell me about this strange earth custom called... smooching."