Sunday, April 12, 2020

ROBBLOG #832- A Poke and a Prod



Aliens visited me the other night- AGAIN!

It hasn’t happened in a few years but they’ve found me here on the Island.
Damn!

On previous visits up there, I have found myself sucked upwards in a big tube, through the stratosphere, past the stars into their enormous spaceship hovering high in the heavens.
You could probably see the ship with a dollar store pair of binoculars if you are so inclined.

Once they had me on board, they strip me naked, tied me to an operating table where they performed all types of sordid medical experiments like measuring my flaccid penis.
You know…things like that.
Sometimes, they’ve shown me photos of a speedo-clad Hugh Jackman and my penis…
~Ahem~
Well, you get the picture.

I know these experiments take place because I find little marks on my arms or a scratch on the top of my head. Sometimes, in the deepest recesses of my brain, I hear distant laughter and guffaws. Usually once I return back home.

For weeks afterwards I can feel a small hole on the top of my head. That’s where the green people- well of course they’re green, insert a probe- right through the top of my head. The probe is hooked up to this big machine that goes “ping”. At times they even insert the probe through the tip of my pen…okay, nevermind.
You get the picture- don’t you?

I have known since I was a teenager that aliens stuck things inside me. Of course, I’m certainly not the only one who gets swept away in a silver spaceship to do a few loops of the outer stratosphere while these experiments take place on my body.I am not at the liberty to divulge names but believe me there are other earthlings who are experimented on.
Like maybe Ryan Reynolds- one would hope.
Did I mention I am naked during these tests?
I did?
Well then, you get the picture.

It’s rather an honour when one thinks of it. Being whisked away into the wild blue yonder to have strangers’ probe one this way and that.
I wonder if they take photos?
I am sure they do.
I mean I would if I had the opportunity and of course if I could plainly see that Hugh Jackman was stretched out stark naked on a cold steel table before me.
I mean who the hell wouldn’t snap a few quick ones and measure a foreskin.
What’s that you say?
Maybe not the foreskin part?
Oh well, suit yourself.
Each to his own.
When you stop and think about it, when the Holy Mother ascended into Heaven, it was most likely a beam from a hovering spaceship that sucked her right up out of sight.  Why, the remaining disciples and those seated on the ground were probably enjoying an afternoon picnic of sliced meats, fresh bread, olives and red wine and would have seen the holy smoke shooting out of her arsehole across the azure blue sky.
Maybe yes.
Maybe no.
You have your beliefs. I have my sordid nightmares and random alien kidnappings.

Many people keep these journeys to themselves but I have written about such travels in these very RobBlogs.
Why keep them quiet?
Most people believe me to be a few bricks short of a complete load anyhow.

Now, Alien adventures can be divided into several parts or “kinds”.

The first kind is when you see one flying low in the sky.

The second kind is when you perchance to see one land in a solitary farmers field round about midnight and after you and the friends accompanying you have feasted on vodka shots the past three hours.

The Third kind is when the door to the landed craft opens and you shit yourself when an “alien being” waves to you and beckons you to come forward.

The last being the Fourth Kind- if you’ve been keeping count, is being abducted and taken up into a spacecraft for experimental purposes

Now that might make you weep.
It might make you shake with fear or it might make you just a little bit horny- especially if the vodka has kicked in.

Somehow, being probed and pinched and poked and laughed at makes you feel a part of something much bigger.
A bigger plan if you will.
I know I feel bigger and more important every time I get swooshed skywards.
I mean what if the green, touchy-feeling beings are working on a cure for human cancer or covid-19?

I mean certainly that’s worth letting them have a juggle or two of the boys if it helps mankind.
Maybe the cure is in the “curious” weight?
I do not know for I am NOT a Doctor or Nurse and I am quite sure these creatures have diplomas hanging in their quarters on board ship that gives them every right to do what they do.

While on the subject, if I were a guest on a craft with others who have been swooped up- like Mr. Jackman, what kind of a human would I be to refuse a peek at Mr. Jackman’s manly bits- either in person or via a 3D, Holographic image.
Oh, didn’t I mention these folks have the art of the Hologram image pretty well perfect?
Well, they do and that’s that.

To make all this extra-terrestrial thing easier for you mere humans to understand and digest, perhaps I will print a story of such an encounter from a few years ago.

I will of course change the names to protect the innocent.

You don’t want people’s names being strewn through the press and online sites millions of light metres away- do you?
Of course not…