Thursday, August 26, 2010

ROBBLOG #132 W E E K E N D Edition

Pull the blankets up over your head and prepare to be terrified all weekend long, after you read this curious blog!

R*

Aliens visit me in the middle of the night.

I am sure they do. Are you surprised?
Sometimes they even suck me up through the stratosphere as they take me to their spaceship- hovering above the earth, where they perform medical experiments and things of that nature. I know this to be true because I find little marks on my arms or a scratch on the top of my head. That’s where they insert the probe- right through the top of my head. The probe is hooked up to this big machine that goes “ping”.

I have always known that I am one of the few who get swept away, up into the sky to a spaceship flown by spacemen. When you stop and think about it, when J.C. ascended into Heaven, it was most likely a beam from a hovering spaceship that sucked him right up out of sight. As you’ve heard, the disciples and those seated on the ground enjoying an afternoon picnic of sliced meats fresh bread, olives and red wine, believe he was taken to Heaven by his Dad.
Maybe yes.
Maybe no.

Up to now I have kept this knowledge of my alien space adventures to myself. That is until I watched a movie the other night called “The Fourth Kind”. You see there are several types of Alien adventures. The last being the “Fourth Kind”- being abducted and taken up into a spacecraft for experimental purposes.
This movie sent chills up and down my spine but somehow I feel a part of something much bigger than I had imagined. Now, I won’t give the movie’s plot away but here’s a story that will help you understand.

It’s 8:01 on a Saturday Morning at Joe and Martha’s house.

“Good morning Martha”, bellowed Joe as he bounded down the stairs, through the front hall and around the corner into the kitchen, “So how’s the coffee? What a great day, eh? Look at that sunshine!”

Martha stared straight ahead, her coffee cup pressing against her lips, although she didn’t take a sip.

“What do you want to do today Martha?”

Not a sound.
Just silence.
Joe poured the hot java into his cup as he watched the robins outside the window, foraging for worms in the rock garden.

“Martha, how about we head down to the farmer’s market and then go to lunch at 'Etc.'
You liked that restaurant when we were there last month- didn’t you? Hmmm? Martha…”
He turns and sees her sitting there, quietly at the kitchen table. Coffee mug held tight to her lips. She still didn’t drink.

“Martha, Honey, hello?”- he speaks to her with a comedy lilt to his voice.
“What’s up? Cat’s got your tongue this fine morning?”

She takes the cup from her lips, turns towards Joe, looks up at him directly in his eyes and says-
“No. Aliens.”

Joe drops his cup.
“Not again”- Joe answers with a heavy sigh.
“Yup. Afraid so Sweetheart.”

“What was it this time Martha Dear- internal medicine?”

“No Joe. This time- a probe. Right through here”- she points to the top of her head. “And another here”, she turns her right shoulder so Joe can see the mark of the probe’s prick. He reaches out to touch it.

“That’s a big one! Yes Dear, that’s a fair size hole there in that shoulder of yours.”
He circles the wound with his index finger- “Just what the fuck would they be looking for in your damned shoulder?”

“Dunno.”- says Martha as she raises her coffee cup and takes a big gulp. “I mean it’s one thing to take your temperature, tie you in stirrups and attach wires to your nether regions but sticking a probe into my right shoulder...well, it’s just not fun anymore Joe.”
“I can imagine. What time did you leave?”

“Oh they were here right on time. Three thirty-three.”

“Sorry Darling, I must have slept right through it. Beam of light and the whirring sound too. Very sorry, Darling”

“Never mind Joe. I was going to scream out but I know how groggy you feel the next day after you’ve had your sleep patterns disturbed.”

“Thank you for that Dear, but no fear, I didn’t hear a thing.”
He pauses.
“I do remember having this dream that Rossano Brazzi had locked me in a porta potty and wouldn’t let me out no matter how much I yelled and pounded on the door.”

“Oh you poor, poor Darling. You see, I shouldn’t have let you watch South Pacific on television last night. You know you always get terrible nightmares after watching that film.”
“Good Gosh, I know. It’s just that I love the music so much and Mitzi Gaynor she has such lovely…”

“Now Joe, Darling. You promised me you would keep your little sexual fantasies to yourself- didn’t you?”

“Sorry Love. It’s just that she’s so damn terrific, you know?”

Martha nods her head in agreement.

“But this thing with Rossano. It was just so strange.”

“Was he nude Dear when he closed the door and locked you in the potty?”

“Yes. I am afraid he was.”

“Was it one of those blue plastic porta potties or one of those fancy orange plastic models with the little mirror, the sink and vanity table?”

“Blue.”

“Oh. I see.”- she sighs heavily, “At least nobody probed and pulled at your body parts Joe Dear. That’s something at least.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

He pauses and looks back towards the window.

“You know what Martha?”

She takes another sip of her coffee and sets the cup down on the table in front of her.
“Uh-huh. What?”

“That Rossano guy has one hell of a big schlong!”

“That’s nice Dear…”
She gets up and steps towards a drawer to the right of the sink. She pulls it open and grabs a tin box.
“Joe, put a bandage on this hole in my shoulder, will you?”

“Sure Darling.”
He opens the box and chooses a large square bandage. Tearing off the cover he applies it gently to the Alien wound in Martha’s shoulder.
“So what about the farmer’s market and lunch then?”

“Sounds lovely Joe. Let me grab a sweater and I’ll be ready.”

Martha empties the rest of the coffee from her mug into the kitchen sink. She runs a bit of water to wash it all the way down the drain, then, leaves the kitchen, walking along the front hall and up the stairs- out of sight.

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