Stardate: 12/31/2006. Captain Blue-Orks reporting on Field Mission #010011000: Earthling Pastimes. So far I’ve examined the following activities: the strange phenominon called “werk”; feeding Earthling grubs mood-altering substances; observing archaic religious holiday customs, such as the worship of the Santa; watching something called “sporks” on their teevies, like footch-bull, barfit-bull, golf-bull, and the highly entertaining “rustling”, in which half-nude males stimulate each other on mats while other males watch.
Today I will be examining a slightly more sophisticated, but equally escapist Earthling activity: maintaining a Bloog.
Blooging is not unlike the making of these field reports, in which we seek out planets potentially suitable for colonization and transmit data via computowave back to the Orks Mothership. Many Earthling Bloogers are similarly occupied with overthrowing existing authority. One, in particular, has caught my interest. It is an Earthling female, called “the Blue Ox”. It has declared itself President of the World, and its group of followers seems to support its plans for world domination. Earthling Ox could be a significant ally to our . . . “cause”. MWAAAAAW HAAAAAAAW HAAAAAAAAW HAAAAAAAAW!!!! After all, the Earthling name “Ox”, when translated into our own glorious and ancient language of communication, means “she who has great physical strength and horns and also walks upon cloven hoof”. JUST LIKE US! Except that we also have 49,000 barbed fangs and acidic mucus for skin. Top THAT, weenie Earth-Ork!
Ahem. So, as the little blue planet rounds the Sun-Star and Earthlings everywhere reflect upon the Earth-year past, I will survey the psychological atmospheric conditions of the collective Earth-mind during the year 2006, in order to definitively determine if takeover of the Earth will be a viable option for our Regal and Viscous Species. In order to create a scientific and balanced survey of all Humankind, I need look no further than the Bloog of the Blue Ox. Hidden within this Bloog is a message to our kind. By excerpting text from posts and comments throughout the year 2006, I will now be the very first, I, Captain Blue-Orks, to decode the Earth’s Message to Alien Invaders!
And it reads:
“Hundred of hot butches
wearing / tall black fuck-me boots
and sequined cowboy hats
I’m all woman!
Are you strong enough to be my man?
at the strip club
hissing, jumping and popping all over
until I EXPLODE
Have I ever told you you’re about a dozen of my favorite people?
His name was Dick.
Oh / sorry.
He / Must be the donor.”
Oh! Heh heh. Sorry, Mothership. Wrong texts. I was just . . . um . . . researching something ELSE . . . there.
And now – Earth’s Message to Alien Invaders!
“2006: Year of the Meatball.
mmmm eat balls
Cat cat dog, I am a tree! Eeeee! Minute Maid Coke, I am a poodle! Eeeee!
Where the fuck is Dodge?
Snails are aliens.
Horses are aliens.
The Teletubbies are aliens.
My child is an alien.
Stooges in your plans for goldfish domination.
First a blog, then the world!
No pants and ready to fight
President Bush / fucking Shirley Temple
“Get off me, Bitch!”
Lord Jesus, hear our prayer
Hopefully you’ll get used to
life with your thumb stuck to your
My wife is not a terrorist
that eats its children.
We don’t eat our pets.
We don’t eat weevils.
That is just ICK in a shiny gold suit.
Our / people:
Psycho / daddy / Miss Elsa
the quiet, mysterious type
in one of those scary-sexy outfits
simultaneously suicidally depressed and about to barf
Visit with the Evil Butch of Darkness
She’ll / tell you
Jewel / has
a brass cock ring
“Eye of the Tiger” in falsetto
mug you for cheeto money
There is no way, in a hundred million years
you’ll get used to
disgusting, nasty, putrid, stinky, horrid cesspool
A / hallucinatory carnival ride.
Get out! Get out!
Mothership, what do you think? Should we invade?
Captain Blue-Orks of Scout Ship 3-million-and-1, over and out.