One day we’ll all be dancing on graves. One day we’ll be beating each other to death over fried cheese. In the year 2045 school will no longer be required, and short people will fly. Cars will not emit exhaust because they will run on Mountain Dew. Nobody will have middle fingers or baby toes. Everyone will smile and chuckle. Gangsters will have dual identities as kick-a** attorneys. IPods won’t work due to intense radiation.

Sheboygan won’t appear on the map or to the naked eye. Chicago will become the next Newport site for “The O.C.” San Francisco will become overrun with sardines. The capital of the United States will be Walt Disney World. Congress will be in session as long as all members are inside the jumbo golf ball. A highway will exist across the Atlantic Ocean. The elderly will live on the moon. Mars will be used as a daycare center and Pluto will be called a planet again.

Talking aloud will be forbidden. Every household will have AIM. Text messaging will be acceptable everywhere. Telephones will not exist. Cell phones will self destruct if a call is placed to voice mail. Purses will be bottomless like in “Mary Poppins.” No luggage will be allowed when flying. Planes will only carry 20 passengers at once. Africa will find a cure for AIDS. China will take over Asia, and Europe will be conquered by Australia. Tourists will be shot for wearing white tennis shoes and holding a map. Hawaii will float away, and Alaska will leave the U.S. for Canada.

The ozone layer will implode. People will wear body suits. It’ll be warm and sunny year round. Snow will only fall when the weather man says it should. Studying abroad will mean outside the Milky Way. Calculators will have color screens and only music will play on MTV. Reality shows will lose their ratings. The nightly news will feature live rhinos. More people will vote during “American Idol” season 45 than in the election of 2048.

F**k will no longer be considered a swear word or the f-bomb. Hugs will become mandatory in all greetings. G will no longer be a rating for movies. Makeup will be outlawed, and Elvis will be reincarnated. Friends really will last forever. Cancer will be cured, and chronic hat hair will kill half the population. Spiders will become extinct and I will have a pet koala bear named Fuzz. Flowers will bloom, and weeds will perish.

One day I’ll no longer be here, and the future for me will end. But on and on it will go … without stopping. I may dance on one grave on Monday and another on Thursday, but it is you, my friend, who will continue to dance when I am gone. It is you who will dance on my grave on Sunday.