Everyone knows the movie about some friends who discover that their hot tub is a time machine, right? Well, that’s actually based on me. Loosely, at least. The truth is that my time machine is not a hot tub, but a bathtub. The director took a bit of creative liberty there, since they wanted the movie to be about four men and they thought it might be a bit weird to have them all sharing a bath.
In reality, it was back in the 60s when I discovered – through a bunch of science stuff I won’t bore you with – that I could turn my bathtub into a time machine. Assuming humans had reached at least a type II civilisation (which was only theoretically posed a year before my discovery) by the year 2008, I jumped ahead and found myself in Hollywood, where they bought the movie rights to my life. I enjoyed the money for a while, but now I think it’s time to explore some other time periods. The problem is that the bathtub time machine has caused some… particular issues. Specifically, my legs don’t work anymore. Something about time travel atrophy. Now I can’t even get into my cast iron bathtub, so I’ll need the help of some experts, although I am wondering about that bathtub remodel cost. I’m running low on money from selling those movie rights.
Once I find the right bathtub conversation company for Sydney homes, I’ll get them to do some bath modifications for accessibility and be on my way. I think this time I’ll try the year 3000. Surely we humans will have gotten our existence together by then. And if not, I might just jump ahead a million years or two and see if we are even still around. Hopefully, it won’t just be me and my easy-access bathtub at the end of the world. Still, it wouldn’t be so bad, so long as I can find some electricity to power this bathtub time machine so that I can go back to the height of humanity – hopefully somewhere between the collapse of late-stage Capitalism and the robot uprising.