Monday, April 02, 2012
Alien adoption
Yet another human is claiming to be on speaking terms with extra-terrestrials. Mr Simon Parkes, an English town councillor, says his real mother is a green life-form, 9 feet tall with a stick-like figure, big eyes and tiny nostrils. Not a bad-looking female by the sound of it. Big eyes and tiny nostrils are better than tiny eyes and big nostrils, as any visitor to Impfondo “horsey-face” menagerie will confirm.
Before you mock Mr Parkes as a half-wit and a fantasist, please note that he does not believe the alien is his biological mother. The creature visited him when he was a baby and sent the following telepathic message to his infant brain:
“I am your real mother, I am your more important mother.”
In doing so, she formed an emotional bond with Simon and became his surrogate parent. This is no more far-fetched than the story of Tarzan being adopted by a female ape, which is not far-fetched at all, judging by the number of people who wept liked sissies while watching Greystoke in the cinema.
What I find most convincing about this tale is the absence of any physical contact between Simon and the aliens (who in addition to his mother comprised sundry characters in supporting roles). As Councillor Parkes explained:
“The reason why the extra-terrestrials are interested in me is not because of my physical body but what’s inside – my soul.”
How refreshing to hear a human admit that members of a different species have no interest in his body. Most humans who’ve had such encounters accuse the aliens of probing their bodily orifices or milking their gonads. I’ve always believed such abduction stories to be vain human fantasies. Extra-terrestrials have no irresistible urge to toy with the human body, any more than we gorillas do. As a fellow victim of such lampoons, I must defend their honour.
I do hope Victoria Spice has seen the recent TV interview of Mr Parkes. I feel sure she would empathise with his experiences and possibly invite him to a support group. Although she hasn’t been visited by aliens (as far as I know), she did recently have an out-of-body experience during a fashion show. The manager of the safari camp laughed like a drain when I mentioned this to him:
“If I had a body like hers I’d want to get out of it!” he quipped.
I’m not sure I agree with his ungallant remark. Victoria may appear horribly undernourished for a woman who can afford to keep her larder well-stocked, but she has done her duty as a wife and mother, producing a healthy brood of four. The proof of the oven is whether it has room for the pudding.
Perhaps Councillor Parkes should introduce Victoria to his alien mother, who is also as thin as a street lamp. She probably thinks women are squat, bulbous creatures, and might enjoy meeting one with a similar figure to herself. It takes all sorts to make a universe.
“If I had a body like hers I’d want to get out of it!” he quipped.
I’m not sure I agree with his ungallant remark. Victoria may appear horribly undernourished for a woman who can afford to keep her larder well-stocked, but she has done her duty as a wife and mother, producing a healthy brood of four. The proof of the oven is whether it has room for the pudding.
Perhaps Councillor Parkes should introduce Victoria to his alien mother, who is also as thin as a street lamp. She probably thinks women are squat, bulbous creatures, and might enjoy meeting one with a similar figure to herself. It takes all sorts to make a universe.
Labels: alien abduction, aliens, Tarzan, tiny nostrils, Victoria Spice
Monday, September 07, 2009
Change in Japan
Someone has told me that Japan has a new prime minister. I never knew it had an old one to be honest, but the holder of the office has my full support, whoever he is. It can’t be much fun managing the affairs of a nation on the edge of the world, with the Pacific Ocean on one side and people who dislike you on the other. I have a theory that the further humans migrated from the Mother Continent, the stranger they became in their customs and behaviour. I asked the manager of the safari camp what he thought about it, and he said that Japan is the only country whose porn stars still have pubic hair. Fascinating titbit, but I don’t think it conclusively disproves my theory.
The new PM looks like a schoolboy who suffers from a premature ageing disease. His wife’s appearance is far more impressive. I would guess she was a cheeky minx in her youth and became an even cheekier minx as she got older. She claims to have been abducted by aliens. Apparently they behaved like perfect gentlemen, taking her on a sightseeing trip to Venus and letting her go on all their best rides. As the new first lady of Japan, she ought to invite them back for a state visit. They could land their flying saucer on the summit of Mount Fuji and toboggan down the slope to Tokyo.
People often assume that the first alien delegation to visit Earth will appear on the White House lawn, but I think that might end in disaster. The president would be hospitable enough, but his secret service men would go nuts, pulling out their weapons and jumping on any aliens who made a sudden move. I sense that Japan would be a much better place for their first visit. The humans there are too steeped in manners and etiquette to do anything that might upset their guests. The cultural attractions are also of the highest standard. There are few more intriguing spectacles than a pair of obese men in nappies bouncing off each other in a sumo ring.
A Japanese tourist once asked me for my autograph after seeing me perform in the circus. “GB-san,” he said, “you should come to Japan and join a sumo school – you would become a great yokozuna.”
I studied his face carefully to ascertain whether he was pulling my leg, but his demeanour gave me no clue. These Orientals can be very inscrutable, even to a gorilla.
“Your confidence in my wrestling ability is well-founded,” I replied, “but I could not wear the girdle your wrestlers wrap around their loins. We gorillas need air to circulate around our nether regions. Adopting that form of dress would be like putting vegetables in a pressure cooker.”
He bowed and left without further comment. “A master of the art of polite conversation,” I thought. I wish more humans knew when to shut up and leave.
The aliens would surely enjoy a sumo tournament, even without my participation, but they should be kept well clear of public transport. The Japanese may be well-mannered on formal occasions, but pack them into crowded commuter trains and they turn into demonic gropers. It’s normally nubile women who are targeted for such attention, but I doubt the fiends responsible would be able to resist a pert pair of alien buttocks. I’ve never seen an alien react to having its arse pinched, but there’s a fair chance it wouldn’t like it. The peace of the galaxy is more important than experiments in social etiquette.
Labels: alien abduction, groping., Japanese politics, sumo
