Why Aliens Won’t Talk To Us

aliens1Unless you flunked out of Math, Science, Stats, Probability, Literature, Philosophy, Biology and Logic — all at the same time — you realize that millions of galaxies, billions of stars and trillions of planets equal a damn good chance that there is intelligent life (besides us) somewhere in the Universe.  It just makes sense, right?

So why won’t aliens talk to us?

BTW, Bubba and Bobbi-Sue’s shaky iPhone video of the sun glinting off a Frisbee™ doesn’t constitute alien contact.  And — just for the record — aliens probably have better things to do with their time than probe fat guys, lose their skulls in Central America or leave painfully childish clues to their existence for weirdo TV documentary film makers to find.  (Just sayin’!)

So, with no credible evidence, we must assume that aliens simply don’t want to talk to us.  Why?

I think that they think we’re strange.  And not just regular isn’t-that-cute strange, either.  Let me give you a few examples to demonstrate:

Cricket — Try explaining this to somebody who doesn’t already understand the game.  It’s the only sporting activity that stops for whiskey, tea, sandwiches, dessert and a cigar, and comes with a warning label, “May cause soul-eating boredom, severe depression and thoughts of suicide.”  And this is what some humans consider fun?

English Spelling — Whoever thought up the rules for spelling English words was drunk, stoned and stupid.  The letters, the sounds and the phonics are not even close, and for non-English speakers, it must look as if every word has its very own set of rules.  Good luck translating that into anything beyond Klingon!

Yoga Pants — What would you think if you were an alien?

DIY Television Programs — The guy on TV uses the same material, tools and technique as I do, plus I follow his instructions to the letter.  However, his birdfeeder looks as if  it were hand crafted by the Elves of Lothlorien, whereas mine looks like it was hammered together by the Orcs of Mordor.  There is no justice on this planet.  (Aliens can sense this.)

But the real reason aliens don’t talk to us (among tons of others.)

Crop Circles — Aliens must sit around their flying saucers laughing their various body parts off.  Here we humans are, the dominant species on this planet, and we’re so dumbass stupid we believe that intelligent beings, clearly capable of intergalactic travel, are attempting to communicate by stumbling around Southern England in the middle of the night, making geometric designs in corn fields?  On what level is this even close to being reasonable?

Or maybe it’s just simply that aliens would rather talk to chickens. After all, they’re obviously not interested in us.

The Wit And Wisdom …

Everybody has that one friend who is just one step faster, funnier and wittier than everybody else.  These are the people who turn ordinary conversations into playgrounds.  For example:

If you don’t like somebody, lend them $100.00 — you’ll never see them again.

Life is short; smile while you still have teeth.

The human body is 60% water — so we’re actually all just cucumbers with anxiety.

At times, I’m grateful my thoughts don’t appear as bubbles over my head.

Whenever you do something stupid, remember there are tons of people still wandering around looking for Pokemon.

I wish everything was as easy as getting fat.

I never finish anyth…..

I’m taking care of my procrastination problems: just you wait and see.

I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.

You think I’m crazy now?  Wait until I get out of this strait-jacket.

Sometimes, I look up at the stars and think, “Wow! I love peeing outside.”

When asked to guess anybody’s “spirit animal,” I always say “jackass.”  Making friends is hard.

Being out of your mind is between you and your mind.

People who judge other people always have job security.

Somebody else’s therapist knows all about you.

When I was younger, I felt like a man trapped in the body of a woman.  Then I was born.

I’m so horny I’m going to buy a plane ticket — just to get the airport security pat down.

The cost of living has gotten so high that my wife has started to have sex with me because she can’t afford batteries.

Sex is like cooking: everybody can do it, but only the very few make it delicious.

(Thanks, Marty!)baby

Life Hacks: A Personal Journey

lifehacksI’m not in love with Martha Stewart or anything (that would be weird) but I’m a total sucker for Life Hacks — those simple little strategies that would organize my life.  For example, if you pin your socks together when you wash them, the dryer won’t eat one — plus they’re already sorted and ready to go back into the sock drawer when they’re dry.  This is a brilliant time saver.  Full disclosure: I don’t pin my socks together — doing laundry is a big enough pain in the ass without dickin’ around with pins and socks.  However, I know in my soul that if I did pin my socks together, my life would be way better.

And this sock situation is just the tip of the iceberg.  I know there are thousands of people who take the time to place their electrical cords neatly in toilet rolls — for easy and convenient storage.  They’ve colour-coded their closet to simplify their morning routine.  They keep their pasta in brightly-labelled Pringles™ containers and have a pre-printed itemized grocery list tacked to a bulletin board they made from used wine corks.  These are the people who show up for work in a re-purposed wardrobe, looking as if they just escaped from GQ magazine.  They have a 12 grain healthy lunch they made the night before and a dozen hand-decorated cupcakes to share.  They keep all their business junk in a cute little tote made from old ice cube trays and can find three different sizes of paper clips at a moment’s notice.  I could be one of those people.  I really could.

The problem is I never remember to save my old toilet rolls, or Pringles™ containers or any of the other bits of useless crap these Life Hackers are always using.  I don’t have a handy supply of tacks, staples, string, wire, old picture frames, fabric, wool or canvas.  I don’t have pinking shears, a sewing machine or a grommet maker, and I haven’t spent enough quality time with a hot glue gun to do more than glue my fingers together.  Let’s face it, Life Hacking is an expensive proposition that takes a lot of time, effort and planning.  So even though I know my salvation runs through toilet roll Purgatory, the fact is I’m too broke and too damn busy to actually get organized.