(Jim) Beam me up, Scotty

Aliens don’t seem to be such a huge part of my life anymore, in that I don’t always think about them every single day.  Maybe because the booze makes me pass out puts me to sleep waaaay before I have time to sit and stare at the ceiling and think I see aliens in my room, or just their shadow, which still means they are there.  Or just their goo they leave behind.  Which, really?  You are so much smarter but you haven’t figured out a way to not leave goo behind?  YUCK!

I first started thinking about aliens all.the.time after I saw ET.  My mom really shouldn’t have let me watch that movie at such a young age because I cannot see him as a friendly extra terrestrial that loved Reece’s Pieces (which that we do have in common, because they are like little pieces of heaven) now, but instead I think of him as a creepy short guy with long arms that I don’t want following me down the hall.  I lived in fear of dark halls for the better part of the 80’s because all I could imagine behind me was little ET bookin’ it down the hall behind me.  I don’t care how much you love ET, if you saw him running you down in the hall you would shit in your pants.  It’s that simple. 

Once I outgrew my ET phobia (which really? do we ever totally get over those things? NO!) I started thinking about real aliens (y’know, as opposed to the Steven Spielburg made-up variety) and it would just keep my up at night!  I had so many questions and so few answers.  Like?  That guys I went on a date with last week, I wonder if he was an alien that can take human form? Y’know, shit like that.  Whatever though, I’m over it.  I just started thinking about it because someone at work said something about scary stuff and I was all like “Yeah, that’s as scary as ET chasing you down the hall” *crickets* then the sound of everyone going about their business.  So I wrote about it on the internet because when you do that it’s like you’re reaching out to all the people in the world with a fear of ET and they’re all like “We feel you, we just don’t read your blog” which is better that “wow, that girl in marketing is bat shit crazy”.

Also, in unrelated news, I had the stragest dream last night that pissed me off sooooo bad! I was in this little boardwalk type place and there was a pizza place that my friend and I were going to eat at but I had to use the restroom first.  When I went in the stall there was pee everywhere so I started wiping it off with TP but then there was pee on the floor and I got my feet covered in pee (apparently I had sandals on) (also, I dream about pee covered bathrooms often, so often in fact that I may need to see a hypnotist about it or something).  So, I walk out of the bathroom where I got pee all over my feet and I walk up to the counter/bar thing where they are serving drinks and ask for a glass of water.  They ignored me so I was all like”Excuse me, I stepped in pee in your bathroom and need water to wash my foot off with” and they were all, “you need to get in line” so I do because even though I am pissed off AND pissed on I still don’t want to be rude.  So, I wait my turn and then I get up to the counter and ask for the water again and the little high school fuck behind the counter says “That’ll be $14” and then he and all his hs fuck friends start laughing, all the while I have pee on my foot.  So, I do what any adult would do and scream “FUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOU” and walk out.  It was ok though b/c I went somewhere with a sparkly clean bathroom and ended up seeing an old friend there. so HA!  Stupid loser that worked at the pizza place!  You’re stupid and you probably smell like cheese when you go home at night!

Advertisements

No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: