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Hubie Househead Humps It
Don’t be concerned. I’ve now taken over control of your computer screen. You are about to visit the truly faraway planet of Dunnryte — where everything is, well . . . done right.
Politicians on Dunnryte sleep only with their spouses, and actually move their lips without lying. There is but one country and one national government on Dunnryte — no wars, invasions or missions accomplished or not accomplished — and that government is a government with a small ‘g’. Its mint’s printing presses print only what money is needed for revenue, and that money is promptly redeposited with the government without ever passing through citizens’ hands. There is thus no complaining about taxes or any government program, because neither taxes nor government programs exist.
Beer on Dunnryte not only makes you think you are more attractive, it actually makes you more attractive. Dunnryte pizza is a diet food, as is a bloomin’ onion, as well as all those silly cheesecakes of every variety. Since everyone on Dunnryte has sex about 14 times a day, there’s no urge for rape or date rape or peeping or creeping or any of the other distasteful things we earthlings do to one another in pursuit of the big ‘O’. It’s also no big deal if someone’s not interested in you on Dunnryte, ‘cause you’ll probably have sex with someone else any moment now, anyway.
Which brings us ‘round to Hubie. Hubie is a Househead, one of several species of ambulatory dwelling on Dunnryte. (There’s the Apartimentos, the Bungalumps, and the Coastal Condokleins, among others). If an area of Dunnryte happens to become ‘disadvantaged’, a bunch of really snappy Hubies hump it over there to gentrify the neighborhood. Too many foreclosures? Hubie humps it on down the road, to where the sprawl beckons. Urban renewal? Hubie and his pals will kindly step aside. Growing family? Hubie hooks up with Henrietta Househead, and bingo! — five bedrooms, four baths, closets to spare!
I now return control of your computer screen to you . . .