Hi there deer strenger wondering across the internets. My name is Sleek and I have greet preasure of wercoming you to Uganda. Pronounced Uganda. You might have noticed that my spelling is a bit Shakespearean…well it is because by the time I’m done man-scaping, re-adjusting my goat-skin briefs and swinging to the only tree that has a fairly stable connection to your internet, Prince Akeem’s tired of holding the internet antenna up and has gone off to play with his pet tigers. I’m usually too tired to spell well and I have to run to my day job. I’m paid to stop mammoths from having threesomes.
Pro Cock-blocker. Thazz me. But every so often, things happen here that need to be broadcast to the world fast…like wars going on in some parts of the country. Sometimes we get relief.
But sometimes it’s timing is a bit off.
But wait…maybe the response’s on time but our slow internet’s to blame. What if the global reaction happened ages ago but the fact that the internet has to go through streams, creep past mating lions, disguise itself to go past cannibals and dive past wrestling chipmunks that by the time it gets here, it is old and tired. It’s all our fault! We are reading old tweets…
But then what if this is all a dream? Or a dream inside a dream?
What is true? What isn’t? Are The Jeffersons still all the rage? Is Luke Skywalker still the man? Is Riri still wondering what her name is? Is Jolie’s leg still out there? When do they fix our internet?