I woke up and it was the future.

When I woke up in the morning, it was the future already.

I thought the future was going to be cooler. I thought I would have thought of that sentence instead of that eighties-ish electronica singers who sing that song on the radio. I thought I would be skinnier with better skin and I'd have a big living room and an airstream trailer and a huge barnful of adorable ponies with nice manners and my own tv show and one of those buckle pouch things in army drab that is kind of like a military style fanny pack for your leg.

It was the future and while I was out practicing some aframes various people were shot with firearms and the stock market plummeted and everything is still on fire and Donald Trump is thinking to become president of the USA.

And I'm all, Yay, that Right Tunnel is working swell. I think that in my head and my voice just goes, YAY and I throw my dog the toy.

Dog agility future of running aframe, it is here. Dog agility takes up a lot of brain space about the future. Opiates of the masses number seven hundred and seventy three. Somewhat behind cross fit and burning man but ahead of plushie conventions and book clubs devoted to guinea pigs. Then Jeb Bush and global warming and the bulldozers out in the field creep back in and share with running aframe.

Then it is golden. Say good morning to the future.