You in 2005

Millar, you crazy s.o.b.

Millar, you so crazy!

Millar = Greatest American Hero

"Occasional benders with male buddies" = getting drunk with Robert Culp and flying around in The Suit?

Whoa Millar are you going to UT right now? I grew up off Maryville Pike.

But what's this "might have been" stuff? Is there something you're not telling us?

(Sorry, should read next time, I see it now) (re: first question)

You are a soon-to-be-unemployed Financial Services Industry Drone!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might have be in 2005
Education
You go to local private schools and then to Bard College. You complete a BA in American Studies, which is pretty much useless.

Career Prospects
Through a mixture of luck and timing you get hired at the beginning of the dot-com crash. You recieve a 401K and a good salary, until you are fired due to office politics and your own ineptness in early 2003, after which you are unemployable.

Leisure Time
You enjoy booze. You often go online.

Living Conditions
You live in a nice apartment in a tidy Brooklyn neighborhood with two roommates. You occasionally hear neighborhood kids tell you they like your shoes. When you lose your job, you wander the streets of New York, penniless.

Marital Relations
You somehow manage to get multiple women interested you at once, causing existential dilemma. This causes you to not enjoy the novelty, which is a shame as it will never happen again, especially after you become jobless and homeless.

World War Three
By the time this breaks out, you are already dead.

You are a junior publishing executive!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might have been in 2005.

Education
Your parents send you a prestigious New England private school. Your grades tank because you're busy smoking doobs and fucking trust-fund punk chicks; nevertheless, your parents' income guarantees you entrance to NYU. You graduate with a useless liberal arts degree in something like Art History.

Career Prospects
You have no practical talents besides an obsessive knowledge with indie music, thrift store clothing, and the status of your parents' Swiss bank account. Naturally, you can go anywhere you want. Fortuna smiles as you discover that hot bitch you picked up at Northsix last night is the rebellious daughter of a wealthy publishing scion. A few words in the right ear and you land yourself a sinecure with disgusting alacrity.

Leisure Time
You spend a great deal of time fucked up in Washington Square Park, laughing at the hobos and fantasizing a rape scene with Karen O.

Living Conditions
You live in Williamsburg a while, simply for the trendiness and quick access to exotic drugs. The "scene" still tires you (because you've fucked everyone in it) and with Dad's help, you finance a cozy place in midtown, close to work and close to your dealer's house.

Marital Relations
Marriage? That's fucking bourgeois, man. Nevertheless, you strive to have sex with the daughters and sons of as many influential people as you can meet. VIcious rumors about STDs soon curtail your sexual career, but it was good while it lasted.

World War Three
You're killed driving over the Throgs Neck on your way to Westchester to meet a drug connection. Guerilla Marxists claim responsibility for the explosion. You die with one hand clutching a Nokia and the other hand precariously gripped to a twistee-straw clogged with coke.

You are a writer of sleazy, cheezy bodice-ripper paperbacks sold in airports and supermarkets.
- A snapshot of your life as it might have been in 2005.

Education
Coming from not so well off financial standings, you attended New York City public schools up until you graduated uneventfully.
At the local community college, you continued your practice of selling schwag and pharmies to the same kids with whom you went to high school. During that time your forearms became overdeveloped in relation to the rest of your body due to the furious and compulsive masturbating you do. You graduate from college with a degree in broken English.

Career prospects
You get into the field of trash novels purely by chance. While having sex for money with a 45-year old stockbroker from Bayonne with a wife and two kids, he asks you to entertain him by telling him a story. You do so and find that you have a gift for storytelling, when that story involves pirates, sodomy, and auto-erotic asphyxiation. Weeks later your first manuscript is accepted by a sleazy, Bowery-based publishing firm run by an overweight Polynesian entrepeneur with a sweating problem. He gives you just enough of an advance for each book to barely pay the rent on your shitty apartment in Jersey City. To make ends meet, you still fuck for cash.

Leisure Time
After being introduced to it by a fellow writer at the publishing firm, you begin to freebase heroin on a sporadic basis. You also amuse yourself by downloading snuff films off KaZaa, which was optioned out by Microsoft in 2004 but continues to be a major source for illegal porn. Every now and then you go down to the local animal shelter and torture the cheapest dog or cat you can afford.

Living Conditions
Your shitty studio apartment in Jersey City reeks of spoiled milk, animal innards, and oil processing fumes from the Turnpike. You keep telling your friends that you're trying to save up money to option on a condo in Staten Island, but you're really using the money to support your weekly heroin and fuzzy animal habit.

Marital Relations
Having found out that you're the carrier of three or four STDs, sterility is a big possibility and marriage seems unrealistic due to the fact that you can't stop sucking strangers' cocks. You marry a lipstick lesbian for tax purposes and as a "beard" for your illegal taste in underage Mexican immigrant boys. She constantly brings her strap-on wearing bulldyke girlfriends to the apartment who like to kick your ass when they're feeling bored.

World War Three
Fearing that it's the end of the world, you go on a rampant fuck-fest and wind up spreading an newly discovered STD called "hofstra red bumps". You die from perforated intestines at the hands of a massive Indonesian lesbian jealous of your marriage to her current flame. The forensic specialist who has to dig the diamond-encrusted dildo out of your spleen later quits his job in an apopletic fit.

I'd try, but it would just depress me.

You are a blueski
- A Snapshot of your life as it might have been in 2005

Education
Having scraped a degree 6 years ago, you now toy with the idea of doing a part-time course in Digital Effects & graphic Design for Film & TV but still haven't got round to applying yet...

Career Prospects
You continue to freelance in graphic/web design and having made some useful contacts have successfully developed several online enterprises that are finally beginning to make some (tho not much) money. you sell compilations of your own music and mixes over the internet and ocasionally DJ at a number of clubs and parties and are still in the process of setting up your own club night called 'Back To 2003' or hopefully something a lot funnier.

Leisure Time
You rival Gareth for jet-setting around the globe but spend most of your time hob-nobbing with producers or staying in watching the brilliant new public-access internet TV channels

Living Conditions
You live in Brighton but spend half the week in London working and sleeping in a studio loft in Hammersmith area

Marital Relations
You continue to have an open relationship with your girlfriend of several years, based on the fact that no-one else wants to sleep with you anyway so its okay.

World War Three
You try to blag it as a conscientous objector but are rejected from the military on health grounds anyway. instead you are forced to design their recruitment posters and propaganda pamphlets to be dropped on the people of North Korea with mischievous subliminal messages along the lines of 'HIS FILMS ARE SHIT!' and 'MOMUS WAS RIGHT'

You are still a library assistant!

- A Snapshot of your life as it might have be in 2005

Education
Bloody hell! You don't need anymore degrees, get a life already!

Career Prospects
If you'd bother looking, you might get a better job.

Leisure Time
Same old, same old.

Living Conditions
Tidy your room once in a while you lazy bum.

Marital Relations
It doesn't look good.

World War Three
Fizzles out.

You are an association publishing drone!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might be in 2005.

Education
Your parents send you to a "Public Ivy." You've always been able to get Bs without making much of an effort, so you don't bother to try for As. You graduate without incident and with a liberal arts degree, almost certainly in English Literature.

Career Prospects
You follow the lead of other distressed daughters of the middle class, and take a job as a secretary, ostensibly only until you get yourself together and go to graduate school. Then, instead of graduate school, you do a certificate program in publications. Then, after the dot-com you loved goes under, you sign up with a specialist temp agency and make the rounds of the associations, trying to get a job doing some sort of publications work in one of the many Washington-area trade associations.

Leisure Time
You and your friends spend a lot of time chattering about the "alternative rock" bands you adore, either over overpriced coffee at that evil empire of a chain, or over overpriced "craft brews" at the Black Cat. Then there's the Internet -- what did people do before that came along?

Living Conditions
You live in Washington, DC, but at every opportunity you bitch about this tedious misplaced midwestern backwater and declare that you really should be in NYC. But during your secretarial days, before the explosion in real estate prices, you bought a condo and are now scared of trying to find affordable housing elsewhere.

Marital Relations
Marriage? As if -- the suitable men who you want to get with and the unsuitable men who want to get with you appear to belong to two different, nonoverlapping species. You keep checking out the personal ads though, you incurable romantic you.

World War Three
You are at your downtown DC workstation when the suicide bomber trundles a "suitcase nuke" onto the sidewalk in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. and sets it off with a detonator disguised as a cell phone. At least you were vaporized so quickly that it was almost painless.

I got the same thing as stevem.

haha

(that was actually written in a Nelson Muntz style)

You are an X-Man!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might be in 2005.

Education
You punt about in the public school system and manage to enter an elite public university, but because of what is generally believed to be a lack of ambition and self-esteem, you fail to find a job. However, it turns out not to be a moral failing, but rather your mutation -- the power to make yourself and those around you lose confidence! Prof. X discovers your obscure talents and recruits you into his School for Gifted Children, though you are by now a wizened 25 years old though no wiser.

Career Prospects
At first it's difficult for you to operate well in the team environment, since your antimojo brings the rest of team down. Fortunately Xavier develops a special suit that allows you to contain and then project your confidence-shattering vibes at particular targets with astonishing precision, and you are promoted to the X-Men. You wan't to call yourself "The Lone Wolf," but everyone else calls you "That Loser" (also there are copyright issues with Dark Horse). You then decide to sign up with the X-Statix because, as you will say in your press-conference, "I've always wanted to hang out with the cool kids."

Leisure Time
Although you were as a monk before your recruitment, amazingly your special power allows you to get laid like a MADMAN -- and you bag some serious fine tail. The trick is to reduce the hot mama's self-esteem enough so that she'll be desparate enough to do it with That Loser. Mutant ass -- sweet.

Living Conditions
The team lives in a posh penthouse, but you can't help but feel like a hanger-on and so you try to move back in with your parents. They're unsure about having a "damn dirty mutie" under their roof, so you return to the team HQ and decide to room in the walk-in closet.

Marital Relations
You've always had a thing for gothy chicks, and you browbeat Dead Girl into marrying you. As Goths will be Goths, you have a wonderfully miserable marriage.

World War Three
The government wants to use you in a modified Loser-suit that could target whole regiments of people at once. However, the scope of this responsibility frightens you, and you go home to whine to Dead Girl. Out of sheer annoyance, she kills you and herself in a murder-suicide, but since her power gives her immortality, oh well, sucks to be you.

You are a Futuristic Vaudevillian!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might be in 2005.

Education
As a participant in the bio-silica brain implant trial of 2004 you volunteer to have the text of Krafft-Ebing's 'Psychopathia Sexualis' inserted into your brain on a bio-chip. This leads to your incarceration when you unexpectedly develop Tourette's Syndrome.

Career Prospects
Your career gets a major boost when George Bush, who loses the 2004 election but takes power anyway, decides to test his powers by making Folktronica the US's universal, official and compulsory new music style.

Leisure Time
You sit in Berlin contributing satirical squibs to ILX, whose new 3D interface you are able to appreciate thanks to three new electronic eyes.

Living Conditions
You have every conceivable luxury. Unfortunately the air is filthy, basic water services have been discontinued, and a deadly new virus make it impossible for you to spend any time in public places.

Marital Relations
You are married to Ayakobo, an ubernet urabon hologram who is able to track your movements thanks to a system linking your body's IP address, your vidphone, GPS and a website called whereshusband.com. If you have sex with other holograms, Ayakobo's artificial voice shouts in your skull. In cases where you breach the terms of your marriage contract, she can trigger a lethal injection using Bluetooth. She's not real, but the injection is.

World War Three
The war breaks out in September 2005 when the whole of the Western hemisphere is suddenly filled with a piercing ultra-high-pitched scream, impossible to locate or stop. As you've been suffering from tinnitus for years you notice nothing out of the ordinary.

You are a leech!
- A Snapshot of your life as it might be in 2005

Education
You go to local public schools and drop out of high school at the age of 16. You plan on getting your GED and eventually enrolling in a four year college, but all you ever end up actually doing is taking a few throwaway courses at the local community college before dropping out to "work".

Career Prospects
Because of your lack of education and general skills, and increasing obesity, you take menial jobs that are far below your intelligence level, but never hold on to one for more than a few weeks before quitting due to "lethargy". You still live at home and subsist on your parents' money, and just have to pray that you never need any expensive medical treatments, because you no longer have health insurance. Unfortunately, you are very ill, but decide that you'd rather just let yourself wither away and die than be a financial burden to your family. You're too depressed to care, anyway.

Leisure Time
You stay on the internet up to 15 hours a day and have little social interaction aside from instant messaging. You still convince your mother to help you pay for trips to Europe to "cheer you up" once a year and she obliges because she just doesn't know what to do with you anymore.

Living Conditions
You live in a suburb with your mother. You do no housework as by now you are far too obese to do anything much without getting severely winded. You have no car, as you still haven't bothered to get your driver's license.

Marital Relations
You never marry or date. You become increasingly involved in your fantastical romantic daydreams as a substitute. You are unable to bear children and eventually you die of a diabetes related heart attack at the relatively young age of 32.

World War Three
You're dead before it starts.

poor Melissa :(