The Future

You know how there’s the old question about which superpower you’d rather have – invisibility or flying – and how each choice means something important and embarrassing about your personality? In part because I can’t remember what wanting to fly invisibly says about me, I suggest that we change the game to something a little more realistic: the power to predict the future!
Today’s Game: Prediction or Predilection?
How to play: Think about a favorite food in Austin, Texas, and then let’s see if I eat it when I’m there this weekend! You…could…predict…the…future!
Here is my wish list Here are my predictions:
• Queso. Duh. This is like predicting that the sun will come up tomorrow.
• Margaritas. Duh again. This is like predicting that the lineup for the next South by Southwest will be met with ecstatic groans from thousands of hipsters.
• Pork Green Chile Breakfast Tacos. C’mon. This is like predicting that Rick Perry will mischievously half-deny running for President at his next book tour event. Easy.
• Barbeque. This is the equivalent of looking into the future and seeing that a really drunk sorority girl will cry by the end of the night. No brainer. Sheesh.
• Chips and some kick-ass Salsa. This is like saying that the next time you go to the grocery store at 9am on Thanksgiving it will be so trying as to drain the marrow from your bones.
• Beer in a themed bottle or can marketed exclusively to Texans. This is like throwing a brick at a bank window and saying, ‘that’s plexiglass. It’ll bounce right off.’ Happens every time.
• Huevos Rancheros. Seriously? Why not predict that there might be some shakes when the sun comes up in the drunk tank? Or that the Cleveland Browns will lose at least one game in their 2011 season opener? Or that Serena Williams will wear a wildly tennis-inappropriate outfit at the next Grand Slam event? Or that my brother, father, mother and sister will all still beat me at arm-wrestling even though I’ve been trying really trying to do a pull-up for over a year?
We’ve gotten a little off-track here, so I want to bring us back to this, my last prediction: I will eat all of the above this weekend, at the same meal.The gauntlet has been thrown, Future Betsy. Don’t let us down.

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