Sleeping In




It’s Monday and you’ve slept in ….. for 100,000 years. 

Okay! Sunday Night is Banana Daiquiri Night but 17 is too many!

You know what that does to you.

It’s why you were booked at your book club meet.  “Why don’t take the cover off?”, referred to the book.  They called the cops for your own good.  You’ll get your copy of 50 Shades back after the trail.  Don’t worry, it won’t be a different copy. You got DNA evidence all over it, remember?  You don’t?  Oh … The Daiquiris.  Well, it’s why you are no longer welcome at church.

Never mind that now, though. Everyone at your book club is dead.

No, no … You didn’t do it … It was natural causes and robot invasion … Still … do try to drink less.

Anyhow … Robo-Life goes on. Up you get. Splash some oil on your face and off you go to work. You’ve still got your j0b … It’s just that you’ll have to pretend to be a robot.

Some things don’t change, huh?

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Nick Jackson was born in the UK, the land of gunpowder tea, but moved to America to escape exploding cups of tea. He now lives in Florida where he attempts come to terms with concepts such as how flat everything is and whether the alligator is a golfer's natural predator. Nick has written for Monkey Pickles from the beginning, as established in Cern, Switzerland, with the discovery of the long-sought Monkey Pickle Particle. He is somewhat "freaked out" by writing in the third person. Nick is motivated to write for the pleasure of the experience rather than to pay the bills, but he does recognize that pleasure is still not an acceptable method of payment in most respectable retail outlets. He hopes to raise a smile or two before being ejected from the store.