Speaking of Velociraptors

I’m sitting here writing this at 03:06 on a Saturday night/Sunday morning. I’m just so bored with my human rights assignment at this moment, so I’ll write about how I can’t seem to focus clearly during lecture. Why? Velociraptors.

When speaking on the subject of genocide, I happened to look out of the window. I stared at buildings, clouds, a passing helicopter, and more clouds. Then my mind drifted away to a better place, a nicer world.
A world with space travel and me fighting dinosaurs on strange new planets.

Just when I thought I couldn’t have cooler day dreams, I stumbled into this galaxy of freedom. A galaxy of lust, of ass-kicking and sweet planets filled with velociraptors and t-rexes. And in the middle of it all, there I was, with jetpack and laser blasters set to fry. I was all like swooping between trees in the jungle ‘n shit, shooting beams of hot light at anything that moved. It was great!

Then I woke up again, in class. Reality hit me like a five-hundred dollar whore who does BDSM for fixed prices, and I immediately became sad.

Oh, and just when I thought I was out, them goddamned velociraptors pulled me back in! I was sitting here, at the kitchen table writing on my human rights assignment and suddenly I was in my spaceship. Scheduling planets to land and whatnot.

I mean, who’s going to save mankind from all those dinosaur-filled planets if I’m not there to do my job? Evolution? Pfft! I call bullshit on that, and say to hell with human rights if there still exists dinosaurs somewhere in the galaxy!

I’d like to thank Michael Crichton (RIP) for making velociraptors badass. And of course Frank Miller for Lance Blastoff!