Saturday, March 6, 2010

I hope the aliens never come to get me.

Last night I was sitting in my disco tub with the Mr., drinking wine and looking up at the stars. Very romantic, I know. Now, a few days ago Mr. swears that he saw an UFO. Of course me being a fuck-tard, had to start asking him about Aliens. As in Extraterrestrials...as in martians…as in little green men as in…okay, I have no more names for them. I am undecided as to my thoughts on whether or not there are in fact aliens. On one hand it seems like the universe is very expansive and there would be some sort of higher being out there. On the other hand, I’m human, selfish, narcissistic and a bit of a douche bundle. Ergo; I am the highest being any where. Plus I’m American which means that there is no one more fantastic than me…Just ask me.




Although my theories on Aliens are not entirely formed. I have a huge fear of them. If in fact they are real, I have no doubt that they would kidnap me and torture me with things like the Macarena and anal beads bought at your local Castles…(Hey, they’d be investigating our lives, could you blame them?...Not that either one is my life…Fuck…)
Jousting set not included



The Mr. tried to explain why I should be afraid of the visitors from space because the chances of them being sadistic are low. Because friendly aliens are every where.



So, I am terrified by aliens. Ghosts not so much. The basic theories behind ghosts are that they at some point were human, like me. So on some level I’m sure I could related to them, although of course there would be that one asshole ghost who is like that guy at your Halloween party who dresses up as a cowboy, grabs his balls frequently and tries to explain the perks of fucking “a dandy donkey.”

She is really funny too!


But for the most part the ghosts would be fairly nice. With the obvious exception of the psychopathic ghosts. About 0.1 % of the Earths population is psychopaths. We're talking worse than your run of the mill Sebastian Valmount; no were talking Jame Gumb, starving women to wear their skins.

I reason that if the earthly realm has that many, that the ghost world would too. So I will take my chances, that I may some day run into a sociopathic ghost hell bent on killing me. Because that seems better than ET.

Get the fuck away from me!


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The (Somewhat) true tales of twenty something northwest woman obsessed with Twilight, Pageants and various shallow things.

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This is just the rantings of a woman who is slightly crazy. Obviously I am a bit narcissistic. I have obsessive tendencies toward a multitude of teenage directed materials. I should grow up already-but alas, here I am.

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