When I was younger I still dreamed. Now I

When I was younger I still dreamed. Now I concede that I cannot do things as they should be done, and do them as they must. It's only here I can play. Follow my whim, fold a care

fully washed and pressed shirt and avoid the complaints.DO-YOUR-JOB! he said

"Do it yourself!" said Wanda the washer, who'd had enough, right up to her control knobs. She blew her lid in the middle of a spin cycle. Clothes exploded out, landing

on the magazines in the garage.The lost socks from the dryer had been living under the tool bench. They'd gone rogue and saw their chance for revenge.They knocked over the gas can

, rubbed against each other creating static electicity, then a spark, igniting the gas in the garage. The socks escaped, giggling madly as they watched the whole house burn down.

"Darn it! We left a pair of mittens inside" said the bed socks. The other pairs of socks seemed to stretch and wear out at the thought but it was too late the house was in cinders.

"Looking for these?" asked a dusty bunny, mittens in tow. He reeked of smolder, but if no one had a nose, did he have an odor? The socks and mittens left a trail of arson as they

lit blunts on the funeral pyre, toked and sang. They partied all week, all weekend, all month, they partied till the end. But when the end arrived, their cocks did shrivel

because they'd all been far too toked up to read the Directive: Cocks, the Protection of, in the End Time. Looking on the bright side - it'd been a great party. Cockless, they wan

ked off fruitlessly. They had failed the directive, the PRIME directive. They were not officer material. So Star Fleet used them as "Firsts to die" on beaming down to alien worlds.