Granted, albeit Brazilian winter (humid, temperature sitting around 40°C).
I wish the plumbing in this damned house wasn’t a disaster.
1 Like
Granted; your house will be demolished, and the new apartment complex which will be installed will have the plumbing meticulously installed by a more-than-competent professional. Unfortunately, you’re now out of a house. (It was taken by eminent domain under the guise of the betterment of the community.)
I wish that things were just the way that I wish they were.
2 Likes
An easy one to grant: you happen to wish things were just the way that they are. You lucky precognitive soul, you.
1 Like
Granted. You are now a fish. Specifically, this fish:
This is Mrs. Petersen:
also, this lady’s ad-hoc hypothesis turns out to be true
I wish I had job stability
3 Likes
Granted. Your job becomes the most wonderful experience of your life. Projects and goals seem to materialize and get whooshed away by your golden touch. You are promoted and receive accolade after accolade. Not just stable, but ascendant.
Meanwhile the rest of your life crashes down around you in a pile of burning rubble. You go to Starbucks, and three people spill coffee on you, accidentally. The IRS audits you 5 years in a row. You are pinned for a murder, because of a faulty read on a fingerprint, and have to spend a hundred thousand to exonerate yourself. Your best friend has you pet-sit while they are away, and all the animals die in freak accidents. You develop alopecia, and patches of skin dry up and turn varicose. Your tailbone dissolves and you find it hard to sit. Your left foot starts to grow again, unexpectedly, and you have to start buying two different pairs of shoes. Metal-eating termites infest your car. You wonder how that can be, but you realize your job is perfect and it’s just the corrupt-a-wish taking its effect. You think there is no end to the things that can go wrong in your life, but then the corrupted wish works its even stranger magic and stops corrupting things for a year.
You think everything is put back in place, while your job just keeps rolling along smooth as butter, and then one fine day you are walking in from the parking lot and a flying monkey shits a stinking squirt of red diarrhea on your head. You realize you thought you were done with the wish, but it rages on, even harder, upending your sense of reality. Weirder and weirder things keep happening. You turn into a woman, and then back to a man, and then a woman again. And then in-between and you are not sure. Your eyes decouple and you have to resort to an eye patch.
Finally, it’s the year 2051: you try to get back on the corrupt-a-wish thread, but the Internet is long gone, replaced by UbiquiNet, and the boingboing bbs is a distant faded memory somewhere deep in the wayback machine. You start a new company, trying to revive the old arts of the bbs, but nobody wants to play. You try to get on NewReddit and post to THAT corrupt-a-wish thread that’s been raging strong for 50 years, but every time you go there, your submission is rejected for unknown reasons. You crawl out into the desert with a thousand leeches attached to your back, and cry to the Lord, “Why? WHY!!! WHY DEAR LORD!!! WHY ME!!!” And the Lord thunders His reply, “Get back to work, asshole.”
I wish I had the same gusto for regular life as I do for typing up these long corruptions.
10 Likes
More fiber, my friend.
I wish one of you throws a party, and invites me.
5 Likes
That, my dancing banana friend, was truly magnificent.
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It’s a surprise pity party…you’re not just an invited guest, you’re the honoree!
I wish it would stop snowing in Chicago. Seriously, we’ve passed the Ides of March, stop snowing already! (guess I want my own pity party, huh?)
4 Likes
Granted. It stops snowing, the thaw comes, and there is never again precipitation in the MidWest, beyond the population masses migrating away. You receive millions of stiff ‘Thank You Very Much’ notes.
I wish the tax office would hurry damn up with my rebate.
2 Likes
Granted; Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, preforms the equivalent of a U.S. 1040EZ form and you receive a check for £5. Don’t spend it all in one place!
I wish Clank @davide405 would come back and play BWD with us again…
Awesome! My wish came true! I’m going to quit while I’m ahead! 
1 Like
You get your wish now.
And 100 years from now, after Malia’s Daughter’s Little War, you get your wish again as @davide405 comes back to with a hunger to play…how many fingers can I chomp from webii’s descendants.
I wish I could quit my job tomorrow.
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You could, but you don’t. This makes work suck so much more. Knowing you could be off the interminable bus ride at any point of time, but choose to keep going like an energizer bunny powered by a tiny nuclear reactor in the middle of a idiocracy scale garbage tip.
I wish for inbox 0.
3 Likes
Granted. You get inbox 0, but the scale of improbability of that occurrence generates a tiny black hole in your pc, that slowly draws in atoms and light nearby. After a few days your desk is noticeably warped, and after a week there is clear evidence that anything within the event horizon is being sucked in and obliterated. NASA stops it, but only after a couple of buildings and many pets have been pulled in. The nation names the new site “Sam’s wishful thinkhole” and millions of tourists amuse themselves posing in front of the sign and the whorling, stabilised destruction in the background.
I wish people would call back more quickly.
3 Likes
That’s more accurate of me, and thus terrible, than I wish to admit before coffee.
Also, may some kind soul with a ukulele serenade you with this: http://beta.erinyes.org/2013/12/18/inbox-zero/
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Not only do they call back more quickly, they somehow manage to call you before you can call them. This results in you never having to call anyone. Which is great, because they’re always calling you. At all hours. At all times. You can never get off the phone. You end up getting one of those bluetooth things and look like you’re talking to yourself all the time.
I wish I knew what to have for lunch.
2 Likes
You wish you knew what to have for lunch and …
poof!
you are transported into the body of Count Ugolino on the seventh day of his imprisonment in the oubliette of Archbishop Ubaldini.
You know what you’re having for lunch:
- hunger has overcome grief
- your only remaining food in this world is the dead bodies of your own children and grandchildren, who lie fallen at your feet
- this is followed in the next world by an eternity of gnawing on the brain of your betraying patron in the frozen ninth circle of hell.
I wish i was a little bit taller
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No… no you don’t. But granted anyway.
I wish I were slightly more comfortable.
4 Likes
“Boy, this is slightly more comfortable” is the last thought to go through your head as the homemade “memory foam” bed you created out of garbage bags and cans of expanding foam run amok.
I wish doughnuts were good for you.
2 Likes
Granted. Doughnuts were good for you. Now they’re not.
I wish my Habanero plant wasn’t so jetsetter fussy about staying warm.
1 Like
