In an age of Internet-ready cellular phones, global positioning systems in our luxury cars, and bidet attachments for our antiquated Western toilets, I like to think we're making great progress in the world of technology and human convenience.

But get this shit.

Contrary to what we were led to believe growing up, we're still working way too hard for our propers. Those cellular phones? We still have to dial the numbers half the time. The luxury automobile with the GPS? You still have to steer the motherfucking wheel and press the pedals yourself! Those bidet attachments? You have to reach BEHIND the commode to the activator button, and PRESS it. YOURSELF. Since I golf and slack off on my handsome salary most of the time, it befuddles me that in this day and age -- the YEAR 2001, for fuck's sake -- life still just isn't easy enough.

Say you're not a bidet enthusiast. I am not. I still have to unroll the paper myself AND wipe my own ass. I'm a seven-figure President/CEO and here I am mopping up my own well-fed posterior filth right there with the peasants. I get up in the morning? I have to manually scream for my wife to bring me my freshly-ironed clothes. These clothes, I might add, were ironed by her, with my obsolete '99 Sharper Image voice-activated SteamTech™ Automated Garment Optimizing System. THEN I have to stand up, on my own two legs, and go through the rigorous task of buttoning every single god-damned button myself, zipping every zipper myself. I then walk, conveyor belt-free all the way to my gourmet kitchen, where the coffee cup DOES stir the coffee for me, but I still have to lift the heavy fucking thing to my mouth, and use my own clumsy arms to determine the velocity of the hot, hazardous liquid careening towards my sensitive tongue and the roof of my mouth.

And that's just what I do before I get in my Lincoln Navigator and suffer the constant stress of self-managing accelerator pressure, brake pedal pressure, and reaching all the way down to the side of my seat to adjust the shiatsu-massage intensity. There's a separate button for the muscle group to be massaged. A SEPARATE BUTTON!

I think to myself: Can't I just speak and let it be done?! Can't I eat my lunch without using those caveman instruments known as dining utensils?! Do I have to make three separate calls from my voice-activated cellular phone to trade my stocks, order my movie tickets and secure seats to the Avs game?! That is way too much motherfucking work for me.

This anger, this frustration, this pain deep inside me is what keeps me coming to work every day, pioneering improvements for my fellow humans, helping make up for the false promises given us by those before. We've barely even begun to actually explore the diverse and entirely English-speaking distant humanoid-like civilizations, all receptive and eventually appreciative of our assistance and colonization! We have to settle for carbon-based maids, like that sassy bitch from The Jeffersons, rather than the slightly less sassy, robotic feather duster-donning 50's like obedient part of the ideal American future family. (We'll have one-upped them there, as feather dusters are fast becoming obsolete!) Rather than hovering, care-free, effortless and emissionless transporters, we're still encumbered by metal-encased, gravitationally law-abiding transportation devices that require constant maintenance. Most things we carry and wear don't even have antennas on them! That dead-spot in the middle of Greenwood Village should be a thing of the past by now!

But no-oOo!

I am your servant, people of Earth! I am working non-stop night and day to innovate new, delightfully convenient, time-saving, economy-stimulating; and most importantly, innovative engineering that will bring portability, ease and overall harmony to humankind, rich and marginally rich alike.

The self-wiping ass. Self-ironing clothes. They will have fashionable space-age antennas and shiny Kevlar linings. Self-driving hovercars with TVs in them, so your grumpy space-boss can find you and bitch at you any time he damn well pleases.

It's all in the mind. It's all right here.

And one day, my friends, we will be completely free of our physical bodies. Our sick, limiting, rotting human flesh will be replaced by hands-free, thoughts-free and blood-free communication. Innovation. Most of all, convenience.

InnogisticsCom (Innovexacomtel Microsymphonicagiliphone Convalexaspherical Dynamosonic Logistics of Englewood, Inc.) will make it happen.

The elevator that takes us up to the top floor today will one day effortlessly whisk us right to our desks with precision atom-displacing-and-replacing vacuum technology.

innogistics.com
The future is today. But it should have been yesterday. I'll make it so we'll see it sometime before tomorrow.

Sincerely,

MacArthur A. Parker
Your .com CEO