Where the damn hell am I? What the damn hell is this? The last thing I remember was fighting the dreaded Ratzis in France and ohhhh… Yeah, there was an explosion, followed by some crazy glowing dame taking me by the hand and yanking me into a freaking time portal. There’s my where and when, but what? What the damn hell is this?
“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.” Image Source
2010 was a weird year for me. I had just adopted a kitten and he looked a lot like a certain führer. I was warned over and over again by all my friends, but in a classic typical me move, my cartoonish pride made me deaf to all those fucking idiots, and I went ahead and named my cat Adolf Hitler, Hitler for short. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have.
If I could find a way, my destination would be 1972. Why? Because I want to see for myself through these adult eyes if the world was really as keen/neat/cool as I remembered it as a ten-year-old.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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