It was a typical Saturday morning in the life of my 
family.  I was awakened by the passionate wailing of one of 
the more recent inventions of my household, my little 
brother.  Exasperated, I violently threw my covers to the 
floor, and would have frozen my yachtabe off if it weren't 
for the central air conditioning and heating system that 
keeps my whole house toasty-fresh.
     As I sat up (in bed), my ears began to ache as the 
grating din of my father's electric razor seared through the 
walls and into my skull.  If it weren't for modern 
technology, he would be using a quiet (if slightly more 
painful) old-fashioned blade.  Like a sharp rock, perhaps.  
Those were the days, I suppose.
     But quite definitely, by now I was completely awake and 
ready to face the day that lay ahead.  But first I decided 
to face the clock that lay ahead. It's a digital alarm 
clock, and I'm one of those people who still say that 
digital alarm clocks are a pretty neat idea.  But that's 
beside the point, as it was 8:11 AM, and time to go back to 
sleep.
     Roughly an hour later, I decided that sleep was indeed 
out of the question at that point of my day and woke up.  
Again.  My father had finished shaving the growth on his 
chin by this time, and had (at least I hoped he had) left 
the house to drive his comparatively modern invention, the 
car, to work.  I rolled out of bed and onto a not-so-modern 
invention, the cat.
     "But we don't have a cat!" I shouted at it, and it 
promptly vanished in a puff of logic.  I began to become 
aware that it was not going to be a Good Day.
     I wended my way to the bathroom and proceeded to make 
good use of the oh-so-modern indoor plumbing, quite easy to 
see thanks to Thomas Edison and his electric light bulb.  I 
took a shower and prepared myself for a typical Saturday in 
my life.  By the time I was completely ready to face the 
world, it was about 10:30 AM (No, it does not usually take 
me an hour an a half to get ready, Mr. Perman!  It just 
happened to that particular typical Saturday morning.)
     Well (as I was wending) I wended my way back to my 
bedroom and since I really had nothing better to do, I 
decided that the next five hours would be wisely spent 
watching my soap opera, "Days of Our Lives".  Let me tell 
you, watching five hours' worth of sand going through an 
hourglass can not even be misconstrued as an invigorating 
activity.  However, being hopelessly addicted to the people 
of Salem and their problems, I thank that nameless entity 
some call God for creating the inventors of the television 
and the VCR because if not for them, I don't know how I 
would spend my Saturday afternoons.  I mean, what could be 
better than screaming delightful non-obscenities at a bunch 
of really stupid people with horrendously unlucky lives, all 
the while trying to convince your parental figure that "No, 
I am not going crazy.  Can't you see that Jack (who is 
really Billy but that's not important right now) is about to 
tell his stepmother, Anjelica, that her baby's father is his 
real sister's husband?!?"
     Suddenly, a phone rang out!  I picked it up, only to 
find that our call time for "Oliver!" that night was pushed 
back an hour, and were I not there on time I'd be cut out of 
the show.  Without the invention of the telephone, I would 
not have been able to get that call.  But thanks to 
Alexander Graham Bell, the show would go on!
     Anyway (I appreciate that word), that's about all.  The 
end.  I wish.
     I got ready for "Oliver!" Packed up my bag, got my 
makeup kit together, got into my car, and drove to the 
theatre.  Thanks to the traffic devices and other such 
implements of modern society at large, I got there safely 
and on time.
     The show proceeded as usual, and thanks to the lights 
we were visible, and thanks to the microphones, we were 
audible, whereas without these devices, we would have been 
rather invisible and silent, causing a probable slight 
decline in plot development -- slight, mind you -- to say 
nothing for ticket sales.
     That over, I went home and to sleep a happy cloud, 
joyful with the presence of all of this glorious modern 
technology of ours.
     But wait!
     There's more.
     Goodness gracious, great balls of fire and brimstone 
and all that aside, I very nearly forgot...

     Rocky.

     How could I forget The Rocky Horror Picture Show?  I 
went to "the late night double feature picture show," which 
was an irreligious experience, of course, as it always is, 
considering that I play Magenta, an alien bisexual 
incestuous domesticated traitoress maid from the planet of 
Transexual in the galaxy of Transylvania.  Let me explain, 
shall I?
     Every Saturday at midnight I perform in the Nuart 
Theatre as a member of the Rocky Horror Picture Show's live 
cast, "Sins of the Flesh".  We act out the movie on a stage 
as the actors on the screen show their proverbial stuff.  It 
might sound confusing to the normal human's eyes, ears, 
noses and throats, but it has come to make a surprising 
amount of sense to me.  You see, a highly inventive 
invention, the movie projector, projects the film on to one 
of those larger-than-life type screens.  We then use a 
not-so-modern invention, our eyesight, and transpose the 
actions of the actors on the screen into our own bodies. 
(which is rather difficult due to numerous editorial blurbs 
that were made while doing the final cutting of the film.)
     We, as actors and actresses, are seen by the light of 
however many flashlights they (the light people, that is, 
they who hold them, the flashlights I mean, or at least I 
mean the people holding the flashlights, which is why they 
call them that) are able (or at least willing or at most 
both) to shine on us at any particular given time.
    All in all, I think that I am going to have to admit the 
fact that my typical day does rely very heavily on 
technology and yes, I even will admit the fact that 
technology is very useful and yes, (the dreaded word) 
NECESSARY to my life.  Wow, and to think that this 
assignment was the only thing that could get me to admit to 
that.  You should be proud, for I know I am.
     On that note let me end my ever-so-wonderful, 
jam-packed, technology-filled day once and for all.

     And, on that note, the end.