BOB JOHNSON RIDES AGAIN! 279

279. GIGO TO GO GO

279. GIGO TO GO GO

So now that the lovely (both to other AI entities and to thoroughly non AI entities such as ourselves) Alicia Keys has begun manufacturing iterations of her mega blockbuster super hero tribute to human idiocy, Captain America: Brave New World out of every material that comes to hand. And so San Luis Obispoans have been awakening from their blissful romantic dreams of Valentine’s Day perfection to find lots of things abruptly missing from their lives: people, pets, homes, garages full of forgotten exercise equipment, storage sheds full of forgotten gardening implements, schools full of children and bookshelves full of books. All we’re saying is that lots of stuff has gone missing since Alicia Keys started turning everything into stupid super hero movies, so just watch out! You (and I) could be next!

For example, the now comparatively dwarfed-in-all-his-grotesque-sexual-criminality by the vastly multiplying Epstein Files, our old friend, Harvey Weinstein (no relation), recently awoke under the bed of his obsessively devoted lover, Honey Brazil, to find his hand and legs freed from the zip-ties that once bound them–and, on second glances, even the bed, which once shielded him from Honey’s sometimes cruel (yet always welcome) lovemaking. Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the legendary alligator escapee from Alligator Alcatraz, can’t find where he left his stash of delicious looking day-care students, and the city’s gruffest billygoat, One Eyed Jack, can’t find his spouse, his kids (sorry), or his To-Do list of hourly-paid pick-up jobs, such as mowing the lawn of local super-villain-fallen-on-hard-times, Ernst Blofeld. Speaking of whom/which/whatever, Ernst was supposed to get Pete Hegseth’s Humvee washed and waxed before picking up his to-go order at Panda Express and now he can’t find the car keys, the Humvee, Pete Hegseth, or even, for that matter, Panda Express! And last but certainly least, our old friend Bob Johnson has just awoken on a space once reserved for his army cot, which he had recently been accidentally sharing with the girl of his dreams, winsome Trixie Belden, who accidentally mistook him for the stud of her dreams, local tough-guy P.I. and wielder of hard-case vernacular, Clam Hardass. Even the voice of the permanently distraught Captain Ponce de Leon on the Maritime Emergency Radio Broadcast is crying out forlornly about all he has recently lost (or at least misplaced): “More specifically the AI off my dreams, Alicia Keys, who has vanished from my life but not my heart! Help! Emergency! Ambulances! The world is in terrible shape and the future of America is sinking vast into the devouring maw of Hollywood super hero movie production! How can we survive and do we actually want to? This is Captain Ponce de Leon and I’m here to warn you all: the Iterations are Coming! The Iterations are coming! Help!”

Meanwhile, Bob’s grandmother, Monumental Li, can’t remember how she spent her Valentine’s Day, but she’s pretty certain it had something to do with the various Ma Mas who have been steadily infiltrating the central coast–from Yo Yo Ma’s Ma Ma’s Ma Ma to Barack and Michelle Obama’s Ma Ma’s Ma Mas. (As if anybody could tell them apart!) But hold on a second! What’s that jostling down there at the foot of her bed? Did the Valentine’s Day cherubs bring Monumental the next love of her life? What ho–it has! And it’s none other than the self-driving Elon Musk and he’s gorgeous! (Sure, he’s bound up and gagged with duct tape–but he’s gorgeous!)