Saturday, April 21, 2018
Fruitful Visit
-Said she'd go back to her planet if
she could take take Monsieur M. Andre,
who designed the bra for her single,
central breast.
-And the boyfriend would never let HER
go anywhere without him.
-Right! Since she’s gynecologically
doubled, his invented techniques, too,
shout GENIUS!
-In her short stay here, she has learned
how to inspire brilliance!
-OUR women locked into trivia. Lips and
eyes and whatever goo-goo.
-Such a shame!
Labels: alien, beauty, cosmetics, sex, women
Saturday, November 04, 2017
Situation
-Men who marry Alien women
must sign a document that
they understand their physical
differences from Earth...
-But who could, really?
-Well, For one thing, my Defline is...
one sexual organ!
-You might say.
-I did. And do.
-But that’s merely a figure
of speech!
-Yes and no.
-Are these girls taken home
to see Mother?
-I did. And nothing will ever
be the same!
-And Mother?
-SHE’LL be the same!
Labels: alien, alien women, Mother
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
White Passport.
"I hold the White Passport.
Alien, with a few plug-in
systems.
Your government has issued me
Ohnga, another White Passporter.
She, too, must have sex daily.
Turns into suicidal jelly without.
I merely babble till death!
So, we help each other.
Relationship? Would be nice, but
not a priority.
Now! Equally important...well almost.
Could you double the conversation
quota tomorrow? I learn so much from
your just talking!
My three memory sites are buzzing
warmly at the moment."
Labels: alien, future, relationship, robotics, sex
Tuesday, February 07, 2017
Buzz and Little Buzz
Buzz helms our Flyers Club, and is an Alien.
Little Buzz, recently-joined, is an Alien also.
Only communicates with with Buzz by--what else?--buzzing.
Buzz mostly speaks the King's English to us, and is nicknamed The Brit.
Our club mostly consists of married and impromptu couples, some single men and women.
Of the latter, the tomboys we call “Muck Maidens” since they're the loudest and most obscene when the players are mucking it up along the boards.
The last memory I have of such brutal activity was when a New York Ranger shouted, mid insults as to a Flyer's mother, “What the hell's all that buzzing?”
At that point, our Jeanette Plessy got into his face and he looked darkly shocked.
By the way, Buzz permits no disparaging remarks as to the fairer sex.
Has experienced various romances along the years, and concludes with reverence that women are absolutely remarkable.
Little Buzz seems to agree. Hard to judge.
Labels: alien, fan club, fans, New York Rangers, Philadelphia Flyers
Sunday, June 26, 2016
He was a Rusky or Alien, or whatever he was
but just into the outbuilding her deceased mother
had long ago stored 50s movie magazines in.
They mostly burnt up--no great loss. The garden hose
enough to put the rest, and him, out.
She’s strong, you know, and carried this smoky one to the
other outbuilding with all its wood, and equipment unused
since her daddy left this orbit.
That’s a joke! My husband says I can’t make 'em.
Anyway, by some miracle, his burns not that serious,
believe it or not, and she was nurse’s assistant before
the lumber mill left.
Since the one part of him amazed her, she wasn’t about
to let him go!
Before you say folks’d find out, and the government, well
Harkey’s Knob the absolute loneliest part of this county.
Of course you’d notice the new fellow around when
driving by, but we mind our own business.
After a couple years, he taught the Cedar Crest United
Bible Sunday School. Started using her father’s
woodworking shop too.
They married around in there, he’s Mr Thomas from Cincinnati.
Uh huh? If Cincinnati about a million light fears away!
Well, they did just fine anyways.
But...every ointment gets a fly. Hers was a tumor
like a bowling ball.
So, left us.
He didn’t miss a beat, marrying the bookkeeper
at the hospital.
She has persuaded him to leave his body to science,
though he says with a straight face that he’ll never die.
Good thing. In a hundred years or so, he’ll get to see
the furniture he makes, on Antique Road Show!
Labels: alien, furniture making, rural, rural humor, Russian, Space
Sunday, December 08, 2013
Customs Far and Wide
Learning His Way
Link-Lunk removed all the athletic memorabilia from his
bedroom, and hung old carpets from the cellar on the
windows. All to approximate the feeling of his cell on
Alderah, where everyone slept thus individually.
He only met Bartley once, as he left for college, but disliked
his feigned warmth.
Many other rooms were available in the huge rambler of
a house, but Mrs Hessel had recommend snug hominess
for Link-Lunk.
There were, of course, no rules in his cell, but scores of
them outside.
None whatsoever on Alderah. Everyone knew how to behave.
When one slipped up, he or she acknowledged it, and apologized
to the next person met.
Sex made all possible. It never intruded on cells, but
everywhere else, yes. Young men and women simply went
at it, any location.
“Who are fathers of the inevitable babies?” he's asked here.
Nobody asks that on his planet, nor cares. The babies
are simply adored.
Well, again, he must familiarize himself with the rules
towards all of that too.
He had already tripped up, the next-door Slaney girl sunbathing.
“I'm afraid he rather leapt on her,” explained Mr Hessel to
Patrolman Max Webberly.
Link-Lunk didn't realize there had been trouble, the girl quickly
enough getting into the spirit, but Mrs Slaney unfortunately
glimpsed them from a severely curtained window.
Patrolman Webberly couldn't have been nicer. Explaining
privately what a sex crime was. And, noting that most of the
town was full of shit, anyway, invited Link-Lunk to a football
game of the New York Giants.
Similar rituals were held on Alderah, the population insane
for them. “Crush the sponges from St Louis!” he roars into
the dark.
“I’m afraid I made a rather friend!” he brags later to Mr Hessel,
starting to employ those favored words as a mark of respect.
Labels: alien, Giants, planet, sex, sex customs
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Alien Report
A possible
index for understanding the one type
is their
love of mock wars carried out on large
fields in
front of thousands like them.
These
spectators often brawl afterwards.
The other
type I call Shelf Persons. They go about
projecting
from the upper third.
There can be
no index explaining them, the
literature--such
as it is--replete with examples
decrying any
possibility of this whatsoever.
Labels: alien, football, future, men, Sports, women
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Friends Discuss Alien "Language"
-Language? laughs he. We never bothered! Transmitting, as it
does, imprecision, exaggeration, and lying.
Oh? counters yours truly to him or it, how about “Bring home
a dozen eggs, Honey.”?
-Well, enunciation of the Honey depends on mood or could
be mindless--like the one of blowsy old waitresses.
-You're splitting hairs. Or breaking balls--which is the
same thing to you.
-Anyway, after your trump card, he, of course, smiles.
-Yeah! So damn superior!
-Anyway, they have no language. A chip implant kicks
in when you talk to them and handles things automatically.
In their culture, thought-recipient, aka Honey, just shows
up with the eggs.
-Big deal! Someday we'll wipe that damn smile...
-Whoa! Wanna get both of us zapped?
-Baloney! Have you ever seen anyone...?
-It's not like old Buck Rogers movies. Dissolved into visual
marmalade. It’s one nano second you're here, the next...?
-Oh yeah? Well just maybe we’re smarter than...!
-We're not.
-Language? laughs he. We never bothered! Transmitting, as it
does, imprecision, exaggeration, and lying.
Oh? counters yours truly to him or it, how about “Bring home
a dozen eggs, Honey.”?
-Well, enunciation of the Honey depends on mood or could
be mindless--like the one of blowsy old waitresses.
-You're splitting hairs. Or breaking balls--which is the
same thing to you.
-Anyway, after your trump card, he, of course, smiles.
-Yeah! So damn superior!
-Anyway, they have no language. A chip implant kicks
in when you talk to them and handles things automatically.
In their culture, thought-recipient, aka Honey, just shows
up with the eggs.
-Big deal! Someday we'll wipe that damn smile...
-Whoa! Wanna get both of us zapped?
-Baloney! Have you ever seen anyone...?
-It's not like old Buck Rogers movies. Dissolved into visual
marmalade. It’s one nano second you're here, the next...?
-Oh yeah? Well just maybe we’re smarter than...!
-We're not.
