Helen has kidnapped your hands and is using them to type. Sorta. In a metaphorical sense.

Dear FutureMe, MAKE SURE HELEN AND HENRY GET MARRIED. You reeeeeallyy need to have beautiful godchildren. This is the only way to make it happen. 8989. This is your barcode. Do not forget it. Should the crunch sneak over a wary look? This is for you to decide. How can an injustice smell next to the sexy pardon? This is NOT for you to decide. Behind a smoke thinks my sixteen neck. This is... a random sentences. Good luck. Sincerely, Agent 113723