Well, it was like this, see. We were in the drive-in lane of a Wendy's in Albuquerque, waiting on an order of Frostys and Biggie Fries, when an incredibly bright light filled our car, blinding us all. Next thing I knew, I'm strapped on some sort of table under a lot of blinking lights and whirring machinery. I'm covered in what feels like last week's spaghetti, and some huge creature with a face full of eybealls and tentacles is poking and prodding me and making noises like I'd never heard before.
Of course, at first I thought it was all a bad dream brought on by too little sleep and too many saturated fats and hydrogenated solids. But I soon realized that my worst fear was coming true -- my family and I had been abducted by aliens. Large, rude, flatulent aliens, at that.
It's been an incredible five months, I can tell you. We were poked, probed, examined and forced to do any number of nasty chores by our captors. And believe me, it's never fun to wash underwear, but try doing it for beings with 23 legs! And don't get me started about their fondness for watching bad television. We eventually understood enough of their language to discover that they were supposedly sent here from planet Qrxttblavn to study human behavior, but the only shows they seemed to watch were reruns of "ALF" and episodes of WIlliam Shatner's new game show.
We'd still be there, laundering Swiss cheese undies while hovering miles above the Earth behind an invisibility shield, if it hadn't been for the untimely death of soul singer James Brown on Christmas Day. Our alien captors revealed that the Godfather of Soul was actually their leader, in human disguise, and explained that they were required to return immediately to Qrxttblavn to report the death and prepare for a national year of mourning and daily public singings of "Papa's Got a Brand-New Bag." On their way out of the galaxy, they unceremonially dumped the Muley family in the parking lot of an abandoned K-Mart in Wheeling, West Virginia. After a bit of using our thumbs, we returned to Waco on New Year's Eve, just in time to ring in 2007.
Of course, one of the first things I wanted to do was check in on Muley's World with an account of my experiences. I sure didn't want anyone to think I was some sort of lazy, self-absorbed, disloyal, egg-sucking bum who would simply walk away and neglect his blog for five months or more. No, sirree.
So, I'm glad to be back. I hope all of you had a great Christmas and New Year's Eve. I'll try to check in with everyone and see what's been going on in my absence. Take care.
7 comments:
Thanks for the explanation. It seems everyone had theories of what happened to you, but this was not one of them.
jenn's right. We had no idea you were off having so much fun.
It's good to see you back!!!
Glad you're back! And hey, you've already posted more this year than I have :)
Could you have been buying biggie fries to dip into your frosties when you met the aliens...because I had the same thing happen to me when I was doing that once. The aliens names were Sarc and Asm...
; )
Glad your back!
Uh, I hate to ask this (particularly in mixed company), but (no pun intended)...
...was there an anal probe?
Jenn: Was spontaneous combustion discussed as a possibility?
Emma: Glad to be back.
Stephanie: Were you abducted as well?
Sarah: If you truly eat Frostys and fries simultaneously, the people you meet are named Up and Chuck.
Jeff: Let's just say I won't be using the riding mower for awhile...
And here I thought you were a meth fiend who high-tailed it for the woods when your operation was inconveniently busted, ditching your bloggy friends without a thought . . . wink.
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