Oh dear Jesus, here it comes again. I’m going on a Brandi Carlile binge again. The last time was really bad. Despite of any of her personal preferences – she’s on my pregnancy spree list.
You might ask what my ‘pregnancy spree list’ is. Well let me tell you. I’m building a time machine and when it finally works I’m going to amass unlimited resources through careful sports betting and the acquisition of a select number of patents. And then I then through sheer charisma and the outrageous benefit of knowing the future and the past, I will impregnate:
1) Mavis Staples
2) Brandi Carlile
3) The Ikettes
4) That really hot chick from ABBA
5) Eleanor Roosevelt at the last possible biological opportunity because I can’t interfere with any of her amazing works of goodwill and charity, particular for the island of Puerto Rico, or I most certainly will never be born.
Brandi Carlile is going to be a tough one. Even though she’s the lady on my list in which I won’t need the benefit of a time machine, she will be a tough nut to crack. I will have to sing my ass off and know all the right covers stone drunk and by heart. And I will be have to be introduced to her by my close personal friend Kris Kristofferson after I ride into a recording studio on a cocoa colored stallion. That should do it.
These are skills and resources that can easily be procured when you have a reliable time machine.
