I Love You
Baby, I love you. Did you know I love you more than anyone on this entire planet? Why I even love you more than anyone on any other planet! A lot more, in fact, because as we’ve discussed before: I hate aliens.
I know what you’re thinking right now. You’re thinking, “Wow, here she goes again, talking about extraterrestrials.” You’re thinking, “Geez, what a small-minded ‘alienist.’” You’re thinking, “I wonder if there’s any more cheese dip in the refrigerator.” Go ahead, call me an “alienist” all you like but I believe history will prove me right on this one. It’s the conclusion I arrived at after an intense afternoon or two of soul-searching*.
You want me to you tell why I hate aliens? Well, a better question might be, “Why don’t you hate aliens?” And the answer to that question is, “False!” Because I do. I do hate aliens.
First of all, I hate aliens because they’re clearly some kind of elitists. I’ll bet they think that our beloved planet Earth (home of the Whopper) is just a stupid blue marble. That it’s just full of stupid people eating stupid cheese dip. The nerve! There is nothing stupid about cheese dip!
You know what is stupid though? Stupid aliens!
Secondly, I hate – nay – I loathe aliens because they smell bad. I know you’re going to say that I couldn’t possibly have any idea what an alien smells like. And that might very well be true but I can certainly imagine that they stink. And I imagine aliens smell bad because they don’t shower. That’s because there’s no water in outer space. So now what do you have to say, Mister Olfactory Science Whiz? Now that I’ve upended your entire defense? Huh?
Finally, I hate aliens because an alien killed my mother. This may, in fact, come as a surprise to you. I know you and I have declared a deep and undying love for one another and you may be wondering why I never told you this before. I have good reason for keeping this biographic detail from you. And the reason is: I just made that up. Now I’ll bet you feel bad about calling me an “alienist.”
*Napping
