Transmitting . . .

Hello . . . hello, are you there? Anyone! If you can hear me, this is Blue Ox, from Austin, Texas, Planet Earth. Earth, are you there?

I – I don’t know where I am . . . I was driving down Stratford, on my way to a big job on the lake shore, when, I’m not sure what happened . . . my car went crazy and I couldn’t steer or stop, and it took off on its own and suddenly drove off the edge of Mansfield Dam! but instead of falling suddenly it started floating and I saw this really bright light, and then I must’ve gotten knocked out – and then, when I woke up, I was someplace . . . different, and oh my god, I think I’ve been abducted by aliens! I’m in a very large structure, and I found this transmitter – can anybody hear me? Oh – something’s coming! Blue Ox out.

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Earth? Earth, are you there?

God, I hope you can hear me. I have only a few moments before the aliens come back. They are humanoids of some kind, with skin that appears to be made of something called “jcrew”, and they never have to work because money comes out their butts! I’ve discovered that I’m on a distant sphere called “Planet Multi-Million-Dollar-Condo”, and I believe I’m expected to clean it. Somebody, anybody, can you hear me? Blue Ox out.

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Hello, Earth, I really hope you’re listening to this.

At first I had all these thoughts, like probing and such, but as it turns out the aliens hardly even notice me. The leader just handed me a mop and a bucket full of toxic chemicals and pointed a well-manicured phalange in the general direction of the toilets. The first bathroom was so enormous, it took me 12 hours and I’m still not finished. Please, someone, can you send a rescue party? Blue Ox out.

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Earth? Anyone? Please respond!

The walk from the aliens’ cleaning storage closet to any other part of the dwelling, such as the nourishment preparation area, takes two hours. I have to make this trip every time I need a new sponge or I forget the toilet brush. Also, the difference in height between floors appears to be about the same as the height of the Eiffel Tower. Can you imagine climbing 986 feet of stairs? I tried to stand up for myself, tell them I wouldn’t cooperate anymore, but they just gurgled (that’s how they laugh) and threatened to cut my gruel ration. And although alien gruel is putridly disgusting and looks like fish eyes and tastes like liver, I have no choice but to do as they demand, or die. Please, please find me. Blue Ox out.

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Earth. They have no feminine products here. Send tampons. Blue Ox out.

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Earth! Come in! Goddammit, somebody listen to me!

I can’t do it any longer. The days on this planet last 20 hours, and I’m expected to clean all day, and it’s filthy and I smell and the blisters and my aching muscles and no tips and the aliens are never satisfied with my work and Earth, I think I’m beginning to lose my mind. I’m starting to think nobody even care – O NO THEY DISCOVERD METRANSMITING BLUEOX OUT

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Blue Ox. Here. One. Last. Transmission, and then. No more. I had to. Pick. Coffee grounds. Out of their trash. One by one. Never leaving. No. Escape. Goodbye. Cruel Earth. Blue Ox . . . out.
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PUNY EARTHLINGS! This is High General Blue-Orks of the Glorious and Ancient Paternity of Orks! Here is a link to recharge your head-battery! Yes, I, High General Blue-Orks, have gotten a promo for decoding Earth’s Message to Alien Invaders! I intercepted a transmission from your Blue Ox of Austin, Texas, Planet Earth, claiming to be abducted by aliens, but I found it simply engaging in victim mentality on the job! SUCH WEAK-MINDED APE-THINGS! And so . . . I abducted the Blue Ox myself! MWAAAA-HAAAAW-HAAAAAAAAW!!!

As it turns out, the Blue Ox has introduced my Grand and Majestic Species to a new type of brain-nutrient! The Blue Ox calls it “poetry”, and claims that its poetry “stinks”. The Almighty Orks thrive on all things stench! The power of the Stinky Poetry is so great, my Exalted and Magnificent Breed now requires it the same way you feeble underfeds require the substance “booz” in order to properly function! We must have more, just one more I tell you!!!

Therefore I, the Exalted High General Blue-Orks of Planet Orks-96, demand in return for the relatively safe passage of the Blue Ox back to your Planet Earth, a collection of the Stinky Poetry to be transmitted immediately! Pick up your pancils! Put the petals to the meddle! Chup chup, I tell you, and get to writing! The fate of your World Leader depends on it! MWAAAAAAW-HAAAAAAAW-HHHAAAAAAAWWWWW!!!!

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And now, I’m happy to announce the Blue Ox Stinky Poetry Contest! The winner will receive – well, an award, plus the Blue Ox 2007 Anthology of Collected Stinky Poetry! Transmit your worst, including title and how you’d like your blog-o-name to appear, by this Tuesday, the 12th to: psychobabyblue@yahoo.com . All submitted poems will appear on this blog, unless you beg me not to. And then I can come home.

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One response to “Transmitting . . .

  1. you know, I have 11 of your posts saved on bloglines for when I can give them the in-depth time that they deserve…

    I just wanted to say that though I missed the stinky poetry contest, I think you’re one of the most creative bloggers out there. And that’s saying a lot because there are a lot of creative bloggers. But it’s also true.

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