Thursday, June 8, 2017

The Martians Have Landed at the White House

After correcting their buggy software, the Martian pentaputer, five-computer decision matrix, then scheduled them for this day of June 8th, World Ocean Day.  They have been thinking it would be a giggle to visit Washington before it goes underwater.

We were notified of their landing and that Kellyanne Conway came out to talk with them.  They said she tasted great and please also send that Heather somebody-or-other with an old Megyn Kelly haircut but without any jewelry or other metal since they don't like chewy treats mixed with their desert.

When asked if they think that will be regarded as a hostile act, they replied back, "Think of it.  Who would miss them?"


Excellent prognosis for the landing of the ML EL tomorrow as well since the People of the Future contacted me as well to ask how I was enjoying the new/old unit.  Events are so monotonous in this time, they sometimes get confused about whether things have happened yet.  That question tells me it happens soon ... or already did, as may be from your perspective and within your frame of reference.


Then the Martians contacted me again and said the messages they are getting from the White House are even more incoherent than usual and I told them that's because everyone in the White House is drunk and laughing about the floor show in the Senate today.  Trump told them, "It's like I'm sayin', mates.  Send the Senate on a witch hunt and they will follow it over Niagara Falls.  I was doing the same thing with Obama's birth certificate and I laughed and laughed back then as well."

Trump says he never drinks but you have seen his Tweets and those say he is shit-faced.  Tonight he is shining like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and he won't stop talking.  So he said, "They've got nothin' to impeach me so call up Vlad to find out if he's drunk too.  Maybe he wants to come.  I don't want to buy the world a Coke; I want to tell the world to take a shot or many of vodka.  Peace, my drunken brothers and, oh, yeah, my drunken sisters as well.  You look so hot, Ivanka."


It's a new dawn; I'm tellin' you.
It's morning maniac music.

- Grace Slick


The Rockhouse sends glorious zoombeams of zingerish delight because the Martians just said, "Wow, man.  They may be drunk but that's more sense than we have heard in years when they don't talk of starting a war; it's more like a game show.  There is nothing for us to do here unless you have some more Earthlings you wouldn't mind us eating.  Bill O'Reilly comes to the Martian mind."

Naturally, we wished them well and they were welcome to Bill O'Reilly if they can catch him since no-one likes him much anyway and nowhere near as much as he likes himself.


The Martians earlier today also heard one of Donald Trump's Dagwood sons saying people like me are not human and the Martians said, "Pleased to meet you, Silas.  We're not human either.  They said they would eat the Dagwood just as a personal favor before leaving and as payback for the cheetah he killed in Africa."


It may look like I have been up for an extremely long time but I was crashed through a chunk of the evening and articles submitted themselves.  I haven't been up for all that long but I'm crashing again anyway because, wtf, I can.


Wishing you well in a delightful day of tomfoolery of whatever choosing you may devise.

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