After 27 hours of intensive interrogation (and some torture involving watching Richard Simmons videos - welcome to the Ashcroft Era), your tidy whities come clean, admitting to, among other things: knowing where the yellow went; ringing collars without a clapper; complicity in the diabolical government plot to put bleach, borax and brightners in the nation’s water supply; and crossing state lines with a cute blue teddy bear for immoral purposes. They are found guilty by a military tribunal and sentenced to a lifetime of giving grooming tips to Saddam Hussein. You, of course, are compelled to go out in public sans undies. People point and giggle.
A million bucks, that is one hell of a large number of randy male animals. You get deer, antelope, goats, and rabbits, and every last one of them is frisky. One particularly large goat, almost a full grown, has developed a sudden craving for you. c.f. http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?threadid=33909
As you know there are always thousands of people pretending to have the flu during the Christmas period so they can go shopping. Now their scheme has been seen through and they are very very mad. They hunt you down, capture you, drag you to the zoo, undress you, dip your … in goat blood and make you take a dive in the piranha tank.
So do we. (sorry - I’ve been waiting three weeks for a chance to use that line)
hexadexalexicon
You now have perfect command of the Enklisch, er, English language. Better than Shakespeare. Better than the Queen. Way better than Geedubya Bush. You can name seven words ending in -gry. Your ability to ad lib epic poems in iambic pentameter amazes and astounds one and all.
Did you know hairy French chicks really dig a guy who speaks mellifluous English? They do. Yep. Those same hirsuit sweeties you’ve been stuck with in previous wish corruptions now follow you everywhere, cooing and sighing and drooling and going “Oui oui”.
You don’t have to proofread all your posts. The rest of the SDMB reads all your posts, and everybody emails you about the one typo you make in each post. Your mail queue fills up every day. Your cats get annoyed that you’re spending more time deleting emails than petting, feeding, and otherwise serving them. They invoke the rest of their den, the ancient Egyptian deities, who bring down ancient curses upon you, your computer, your Internet connection, and just about everything else in your life that doesn’t involve the cats. You cease to be among the living, and so you cannot die – you are doomed to spend eternity as a drowned skeleton, forever serving to housecats.
Moral: If you have cats, keep curse-removal magic on hand at all times.
I wish to have millions of people cheering my name. (And not for capturing ObL; I wished that wish several pages ago.)
Scuba-Ben, Scuba-Ben, Scuba-Ben, … they all cheer…
Unfortunately they are cheering for the lates poop-idol winners “Scuba-Ben” which is a three peice rap group comprising of a very large girl, a skinny boy, and Dennise who’s gender has not yet been determined. You must now live in shame as having the same name as a really bad one hit wonder pop band.
Stupid people keep out of politics. Unfortunately, this means that all the avaricious moral-free power-hungry bastards are now smart. The world goes to hell in a handbasket.
Oddly, though, the final nuclear destruction–by a maddened ex-general trying to rid the world of twelve-dimensional potatoes–does not occur for almost twenty-four hours.
Everyone dies.
I wish my artistic soul was alive and blooming instead of withering away.
Your artistic soul lives, flourishes, blossoms, sprouts, gushes forth, emits radiant beams of heavenly light, etc. etc. etc.
Your artistry is noticed by the Great Corporate Headhunter. He has just the job for you - personal assistant to (and eventual successor of) Slug Signorino, Esq. Refuse and you wither.
Wish that stray cat I started feeding two years back would show some gratitude.
The stray cat does indeed show gratitude. It spends it’s entire day hunting for “presents” to bring to your doorstep, both large and small. Your porch is rendered unusable thanks to the bodies of mice, birds, snakes, lizards and other sundry small animals piled knee deep. With the summer heat the stench becomes unbearable, the property values of your home, and those of your neighbors plunge so low that you would have to pay the buyer to take your house. Eventually it becomes so bad that the neighbors form a lynch mod and run you out of town.
I wish my boss wasn’t such a worthless slug.
Your boss is no longer a worthless slug. Now he’s a highly valuable, goldplated, diamond-encrusted slug. The company you work for vows to keep him forever, and details you to serve his every need.
I wish I had a collapsible snow shovel to keep in my car.
The Miami Dolphins never win a game again. After three seasons of bitter defeat, the team owner gives up and sells them to a social-climbing hardware chainstore magnate, who relocates the team and renames them the Paducah Plumbers’ Helpers. They go on to whip the crap out of all the other teams (who soon discover that publicly laughing themselves sick at the “Plungers” wasn’t such a great idea after all) and win the Super Bowl three years in a row.
//The technical difficulties are now resolved. Thank you for your patience.//
BellaDellaItalia, you have a nice, fun, good-looking fiance. He even posts to the SDMB at times (I’m sure you can figure our which poster he is). Unfortunately, your other fiance objects to this. Murder ensues. You end up with both their estates, but in a state of shock.
You are sent to an insane asylum, and spend the rest of your life comtemplating twelve-dimensional potatoes.
Sunspace, you now have a sexy, enthusiastic girlfriend. Too bad it’s BellaDellaItalia, and you’ve just consigned her for the rest of your life to an insane asylum. Not that it really matters that much to you, since she’s murdered you.
I wish these stupid cats wold stop rummaging through my cabinets.
These stupid cats stop rummaging through your cabinets.
Yes, they’re suddenly smart enough to know that they’re calling attention to what they’re doing. They start sneaking through your cabinets instead. And possibly elsewhere.
You live your life in blissful ignorance of their activities.
(Continuing with the consequences of my last wish)
I wish my sexy enthusiastic girlfriend wasn’t insane or a murderer…