Gross Encounters Of The Third Kind

I am thirty-seven and at this point I don’t “discover” things about myself anymore.  I pretty much figured out who I am and what I am capable of about twenty years ago.

I know who I am because I often create “what if” scenarios for myself.

What would you do if you saw a bag of money fall off an armored truck?

What would you do if your brother called you in the middle of the night to help hide a body?

What would you do if your loved ones are infected by zombies… do you kill them immediately or do you wait for them to turn?

Having watched a few movies in my day, I would like to think in the event of an alien encounter, I would be a mature spokesperson for humankind.  I wouldn’t make any sudden movements or noises and instead try to communicate like I would to anyone who doesn’t speak my language with simple hand gestures and pleasant faces.

Then I saw this and realized I would be wrong.  Completely fucking wrong.


I have seriously overestimated my abilities.

The story goes like this.  These kids were playing in the forest and this creature crawled out from a cave and moved toward them at which point they took rocks and stoned it until it stopped advancing, then beat it to death with sticks and ran home crying to their mothers.

As would I.

Seriously, look at that thing with its slick amphibian skin, beady eyes and thick tongue hanging from what I guess is a snout?  What the fuck?  Be glad I didn’t have a gun and gallon of gasoline because I probably would have shot it until my clip was empty, loaded a new clip, emptied it, and then set it on fire.

Why can’t more aliens look like this?


You know, hot alien chicks that just want to get laid?  Is that so bad?

What I have never understood the movie stereotype of human women cross-breeding with aliens.  In the TV mini-series V: The Final Battle where the girl gets pregnant with a human lizard hybrid.

You banged a lizard dude?  Did you know he was a lizard dude and if not, how the hell did you not know?  And seriously, what kind of back alley Guadalajaran Obstetrician do you have that he didn’t see this in a sonogram? And you thought your dad was angry when he found out you kissed Quantrell Jackson.

I have always found it ironic that all bi-species characters in Star Trek have human mothers and alien fathers which must be some kind of nerd fantasy that women will have sex with anything.  Men, yes, I would totally believe that.

So she’s Vulcan with dark hair, pointed ears and no sense of humor, empathy or emotion of any kind?  But she does have tits and a rockin’ ass?  I’m in.

Why a man would sex a Vulcan is understandable.  We’ll hump a sofa if the cushions are soft enough.  But what a woman, a gender overflowing with emotion, would find appealing about a man devoid of it?  Sell that horseshit to the tourists, I’m not buying.

But human males and Klingon females?  No explanation necessary.  We like it like that.  Pon Farr for the win!

I was watching ET The Extra-Terrestrial a few years ago and remember thinking Elliot is maybe ten.  Gertie is about four.  I expect them to be morons but Michael is the older brother and he’s like sixteen.  He should have enough sense to 1) not know what the hell ET is and 2) it might be diseased.  The same goes for that kid in Gremlins who’s like twenty and when he’s given some animal nobody’s ever seen before and reproduces with water, his solution is let me take it to my middle-school science teacher?  Really?  It reproduces with water!  It’s not a Sea Monkey!  What reproduces with water?  For that matter, what does it drink and how does it keep hydrated?  Cells are made of water, moron!  Even if you kept it out of water what happens when it cries or pees?  None of this makes any sense so you take it your teacher (and I’m going to ignore that you have a relationship with a teacher by all accounts you should stopped communicating with almost a decade ago).  Are there no zoos near Kingston Falls?  At least call a Pet Smart, dumbass.  Hell, I’d have that crated bastard at Animal Kingdom in Orlando in about twenty minutes and if the cops pulled me for speeding I’d tell them I have some weird shit in my trunk and they can ticket me in the Disney World parking lot.

Sorry about all the bruises but I didn’t know what it was so I hit it a few times with a bat… and a shovel.  Yeah, I can see Gizmo is cute but I don’t know him.  There are lots of things that are pleasant to look at that are baseball bat crazy.


Long story short.  Those kids in Panama lied.  That thing was dead when they found it.  They didn’t see it crawl out of a cave mostly because it would have taken the better half of the afternoon to witness.  It’s a sloth.


Obviously it has something wrong with it since it has no hair but I have seen monkeys with skin diseases that leave them bald and slightly odd to look at.

Cinder 2_St Louis Zoo britney-spears-bald-400a030207

The point is I learned a little something new about me last week.  That I am just as scared of things I don’t know as anyone else and I have to work on that.  Unless I see something crawl out of a cave that has watched too much Star Trek and don’t see nothing wrong, with a little bump and grind.

Of course if the flip side is this is I am rational and civilized and spend the better part of my afternoon trying to make alien contact with a hairless sloth.


One thought on “Gross Encounters Of The Third Kind

  1. Awesome blog!

    I thought about starting my own blog too but I’m just too lazy so, I guess Ill just have to keep checking yours out.

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