My imaginary audience is my deceased dad (grandad really.)
WWII, Pacific Theatre, Torpedoman 3rd class. Died in the early 80’s from mesothelioma. (Those battleship pipes were wrapped with raw asbestos sheets, lashed on with duct tape.)
I often try to imagine explaining to him stuff like the internet and Trump. Yeah.
Future people scrolling through a bazillion channels: … sees me channel … meh, keeps scrolling … sees your channel and stays there for five minutes … ok got my cheetos and my dip, what the hell is this? … keeps scrolling
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