- Space Invader wall stickers
- glowing, groping, luminescent pillow with wi-fi
- Adhesive mounted 5" CD/DVD hubs (for bookmounting, etc.); I don't think I want a T-Shirt that boldly states 5" though, and I suspex that this would be a better DIY project than to spend that much money on them (4 pack for US$17?!).
- Better pingtimes when trying to play FarCry from my home machine. 350: what the hell is up with that?
- Thoracic Cavity Storage T-Shirt
- These Nike boots, which are not made for walking.
- Missile Balloons
“I came back for my own purposes,” said the Time Traveler, looking around my booklined study. “I chose you to talk to because it was . . . convenient. And I don’t want you to do a goddamned thing. There’s nothing you can do. But relax . . . we’re not going to be talking about personal things. Such as, say, the year, day, and hour of your death. I don’t even know that sort of trivial information, although I could look it up quickly enough. You can release that white-knuckled grip you have on the edge of your desk.” I tried to relax. “What do you want to talk about?” I said. “The Century War,” said the Time Traveler. I blinked and tried to remember some history. “You mean the Hundred Year War? Fifteenth Century? Fourteenth? Sometime around there. Between . . . France and England? Henry V? Kenneth Branagh? Or was it . . .” “I mean the Century War with Islam,” interrupted the Time Traveler. “Your future. Everyone’s.” He was no longer smiling. Without asking, or offering to pour me any, he ...
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