Friday, June 20, 2014

My Alien Encounters & Abductions

Aliens are assholes. 

I wish Hollywood would stop making these movies about how they are somehow going to save us from whatever.  They're not! 

Aliens are more than mean, they think they're funny, and they do really fucked up shit to me. 

It's common knowledge to the people I work with that aliens are responsible for me missing out on work on many occasions.  In fact, my boss has been pretty understand of this, which leads me to suspect he has suffered his own encounters with the little gray fuckers himself. 

I'm constantly having to stay home because of the shenanigans of these alien visitors.  One time they hid my car keys.  Another time they took all the gas out of my car.  Just last month they stole my pants so I had no pants to wear to work.  Normally I wouldn't care about that, but the rule is, I have to show up moderately sober and wearing pants.  That's The Ted Rule they started after an unfortunate incident a few years ago.  There are still a couple of women there who won't talk to me. 

But yeah, the aliens are always messing with me. 

A few years ago, they put an implant in my brain that makes women subconsciously not like me.  It sucks!  I meet a pretty woman, she's fun to talk to, we have a great time and suddenly my implant gives off a signal and the woman freaks out.  It's like I pulled out a roll of duct tape or something.

This is why I don't date.  The aliens ruined it for me.

But recently they crossed the line and did some things I just cannot stay silent about.

In the past few days, my health hasn't been the best.  At first I thought it was my gall bladder, which made perfect sense, because of how I live.  Ever seen those bumper stickers that say, "drive it like you stole it!" on the backs of beat-up tuner cars?  Well, I treat my body like that.  I live like it's not my body and I stole it from somebody.

So to me, it made perfect sense for my gall bladder to suddenly say, "Man, fuck you!  I'm done!"  There is only so much abuse you can heap upon a liver before somebody says something.  My liver, a silent victim of my Scorched Earth Policy towards life, has always been a trooper.  But there's only so much it could take.

Or, I figured, my gall bladder.

I'm not going to go into details about this one.  It's gross.  And I swore I would never be the guy who used his blog to describe in detail his poop.  Even though the subject fascinates me.  I use it like my own Mad Scientist Laboratory.

If I eat X and Y while drinking 4³ the result is what?

But no, this was bad.  Very bad.  Painful, nasty, ugly and all the things you're not supposed to talk about.

And then I realized, it was the aliens.  They had come to visit me in the night and they switched my butt cheeks around.  My left cheek was suddenly on my right side.  The right one was on the left side.

Those demented gray bastards!

And they played around with the plumbing.  They accelerated the whole process somehow so that it resembled a potato gun more than a sewage treatment facility.   I was in all kinds of pain, and a frequent flier on the Throne of Contemplation, where I caught up on reading.  I was so bloated I looked like a fat guy in a Tim Burton cartoon. 

With sheer bravery and hardheadedness I remained at work to diligently harass people on the phones.  But once I got home, the full and awful truth was revealed--I was really sick.  Something was wrong. 

The aliens had somehow totally fucked up the system so badly I was left a gassy, shitting mess. 

Thankfully, the drugs kicked in, and I began to feel better.  I can say now, that despite the soreness, I'm close to being back to my normal self. 

But this would have never happened if the aliens had just left me alone.  So here's my advice to you guys, because as you know, Uncle Ted is just here to help:

Never Trust Aliens.

Seriously.  They're assholes.  Every last one of them. 

I will attempt to go into work tomorrow because I know how badly they miss me.  I know about the tears and despair.  So I will endeavor to arrive there tomorrow, moderately sober and wearing pants, so they may rejoice at their good fortune.  All the while, I shall keep a wary eye towards the sky and stay vigilant for the aliens next visit. 

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