Two thousand and seven. Late September....
The spaceships came when I was in bed...
There still is a lot I cannot remember. Perhaps they implanted a chip in my head.
But I seem to recall dancing lights on the wall all around my posters of
Beyoncé, a low-frequency sound and a pulsating pound as I was engulfed by a magnetic ray.
I was paralyzed in my Flintstones pajamas.
It lifted then floated me towards the stars and the orbital base of an alien race on their mischievous mission from Mars.
I found myself in a sterile room...
I was strapped face down on a metal tray...
The aliens entered in tinfoil dashikis...
(They either were mimes or had nothing to say).
Each one looked like a tiny Cher: plastic faces minus the hair.
With never so much as a "how are you, Joe?" they slashed my pajamas with their laser tool, whereupon, using probes that were beeping below
they began to do things that weren't cool
and I felt for the first time shame and disgrace for my ***-tattoo of ****
Cheney's face.
I thought, "Am I dreaming? Am I still asleep?" As over and over they
Beep-beep-beep.
Why such interest? Why invest in this vigorous quest up my lower intestine? Did they hope to study or maybe inspect some
mysterious feature while beeping my ******?
I strained in the straps but I couldn't get loose as the weird little beepers
beep-beeped my caboose.
With continuous beeping filling my ear the bleeping E.Ts went on beeping my rear...callously...clinically beeping me numb.
They treated me like I was some bleeping ***!
Though frightened, exhausted, indignant and weak, very bravely I then turned the other cheek.
I'd been violated. My sprit broke...the **** of an intergalactic joke.
Dishonored,, betrayed, invaded and duped...
Disgusted, embarrassed, and BOY WAS I POOPED!
Yet oddly I wanted a smoke.
With all their tests run, at last they were done and they left the "lab" en masses having thoroughly beep-beeped my &@$!
I woke up okay in my bed the next day but my ***** did not feel quite right.
I've been in treatment for several years now.
My therapist thinks I'm uptight
but I've learned to live with my dignity stolen and a pro to-illogical rare
semi-colon.
I'm happy I wasn't abducted to Venus where aliens commonly bing-bing
your nose and ears.
NO. THIS DID NOT REALLY HAPPEN
