Kablooey!
ETF, Your favorite restaurant re-opens. As a KFC. That’s Goood eatin’!
I wish I could write as well as Nabokov
kilometricooooo
you write “as well as Nanokov” on a piece of paper, with a free pen that has unlimited ink! how cool is that?! you’re also strangely compelled to keep writing that phrase for all eternity.
i wish i know the secret to making people spill their drinks on keyboards.
%vim and vigour!!!%
You know the secret to making people spill their drinks on keyboards. You demonstrate this to people every day… by spilling drinks on your own keyboard. As you are a top-rate coder, this is a disaster for your career.
You end up using a pencil. And dying of embarassment.
I wish three out of four dentists knew what was wrong with my life, and told me.
three out of four dentists do know whats wrong with your life— they do tell you and the news is so disturbing that you commit suicide.
I wish my car would start
Abra ka pocus!
Your car starts. On its own. When you are NOT in it! Slowly it turns the radio dial from one station to another.
“EYE TolD ewe 2 youse bet her mow tur oil!”
And then proceeds to run you down even after you run into the house.
I wish I had the ability to control my urge to post on this board!
Beeeeeeewip!
You now have control over your posting urges.
Unfortunately, it’s the same control that was previously assigned to your bladder.
I wish I had more self-control.
>burp<
You now have total control. Everything wich is beyond your control slowly slips into oblivion. Unfortunately you soon find yourself alone, a non corporeal mind floating in the void. And even that is shrinking. Meanwhile, all of your thoughts (besides I have control!) slowly slip away as well. This leaves you alone in all of the universe muttering to your self I have control… Forever.
I want my mommy.
nothing happens. you gotta make it an official wish, child.
i wish …
Zudop!
You wish, alright, but because you didn’t ask for anything, you don’t get anything!
I wish I could figure out where I left the pudding.
DOH!
You finally figure it out! Unfortunately you also remember why your brain had supressed the information. The wish, being stronger than your ability to supress, prevents you from immediatley purging the horrible truth from your brain. In desperation, you claw your eyes from your skull in an attempt to wipe the image of you doing that with anything so wholesome as pudding.
On the bright side, the author of Edipus Rex writes a new play based on the life of Govenor Quinn. It becomes an even bigger success. 
I wish for the world to know peace for the next thousand years. And every person to have his own puppy.
<audience> aaaaaaaaaah!
Twink!
You remember! now if only you could remember who and where you are…
I wish it wouldn’t snow this winter below 2000 feet here this winter.
Alakaswindle!
It won’t snow below 2000 feet this winter. Instead it will rain, and rain, and rain every single day and the city shall flood and be shut down, and the recovery will cost millions.
I wish my Palm Pilot would sync, already.
Bloop!
Your Palm Pilot sinks!
I wish joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea!
Not only is there joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, there is joy to you and me. Joy to the world. So much joy that people quit suing each other. Millions of lawyers are out of work. Thousands apply at McDonalds and take away minimum wage jobs for the poor people who really need them. This throws the economy into the worst depression. And its all your fault for wishing for joy.
I wish someone would clean my bathroom.
hint, hint **stormchaser**…crepusculate!
Someone cleans your bathroom, misstee. Unfortunately, while the bathroom is left sparkling, ey merely transports all the crud to the kitchen. Where it festers. And spreads. And whispers things in the night. And subverts the tuna casserole, which goes bad.
The tuna casserole, in turn, pulls a gun on the egg salad, frightening it into submission. While doing the casserole’s dirty work, the egg salad corrupts the vegetable drawer. Noxious gases rise through the fridge.
Meanwhile, the original crud from the bathroom is having its way in the cupboards. A veritable orgy is taking place in the fruit bowl. The contents of the bread bin are rendered indescribeable.
The corruption extends tentacles down the drain and calls for reinforcements, which arrive on the double.
By this time, several guests, including the Ambassador from Romania, have died of food poisoning.
The area is sealed off, and the Men in the White Spacesuits spray thick, radioactive foam everywhere, in the hopes that heavy gamma radiation would kill everything within.
It doesn’t.
After several years, when the new regime of Earth’s life has stablilised, the Fllurrgghh of Glwrugh places a historical plaque on the remains of your bathroom, the spot where the revolution that led to the modern world started, then squelleps back across the landing field to the mushroom towers of the Fludorate and gets back to work.
I wish I had a tan.
Voila! You are officially tan.
However, tans are no longer seen as a healthy glow or a sign that you’ve just returned from an exotic vacation. No, tans are now the telltale symptom of a newly discovered highly contagious disease which causes your brain to slowly turn to mush while your genitals swell to the size of casaba melons. Since you are obviously afflicted with this horrible disease, your friends, family and complete strangers shun you, leaving you no option but to hide from the world inside your tiny apartment, wearing sweatpants that look like you’ve been trying to shoplift medicine balls by shoving them down your shorts, as you watch George Hamilton’s worst television appearances and wax nostaglic about the good old days.
I wish I was an Oscar Mayer weiner.
Kapoof!
You have just become the first recipient of the newest and most prestigious hollywood award ever! Yep. That’s right. You’ve just recieved the first Major Oscar. Hence, you are an Oscar Major Winner! Congratulations.
I wish I wish I wish I had a fish!
You have a fish. Its been fried with butter and lemon juice. Too bad you are a vegitarian and can't eat it.
I wish I could find my favorite black socks.Dingalingaling
misstee, I fond your favorite black socks! They’ve been chewed to shreds, alas, by the puppy.
Yes, the puppy. You know, the one that pervert wished on you. When he wished that everyone in the world would have a puppy.
Okay, so he also wished for world peace for a thousand years. We’ve got it – everyone is way too busy to make war, what with feeding the puppy, taking the puppy for a walk, cleaning up after the puppy’s messes, repairing or replacing all the stuff the puppy destroys, and so forth.
What’s worse, all the puppies remain puppies all their lives, so they never learn any manners. Life is hell, except for puppy chow manufacturers.
I wish pervert would clean my cats’ litter boxes.