The Aliens

The Aliens came to earth last night and spoke with me and they told me their plan.
They said, "We need the water".
I said, "What?"
They said, "The water, we need it, the water on the earth... It's ours, ya' know, and we need it back."
I said, "Yours?"
"Oh yeah," the alien said, "it's ours from eons ago. A long, long time ago the science department wanted to see what would happen if we put out the fire on the surface of a trashball, and just let it burn down inside til it was coal. Somebody thought it would collapse and disappear... make it easier to navigate space... so we dragged a huge ice cube here and slammed it into this trashball after successfully setting it on fire. It worked; the surface of the trashball was extinguished and the core was burning as planned but the planet was developing some form of bacteria that had evolved to the point that it was sending objects into space and the Supreme Board couldn't have that, so they ordered the return of the water to our world, and to start the experiment again closer to home where we can keep a closer eye on things... and spray."
"But what about Earth?"
"The trashball? Normal procedure; it will be dragged slowly into the big incinerator at the center, a few balls in front of it. Initially, they were going to slap the place with a comet, like the first time they tried to stop a fungus, but the scientists said without the water the growth would stop... so they're not going to send a rock."
"But there's life here," I said.
"Tell that to the guys that want the water," the alien said. "I hear OILPS ain't got water for their pools... you know how OILPS are! Without water for their pools they got nothing fo sit beside and drink. They got no place to tan, ya know... they need that water. Without it the OILPSROCK wouldn't be the haven it is."
"But do they need it to survive?" I asked.
"Oh, hell no," the alien said. "They just like the way it looks, but they have eminent domain over this trashball. When the place goes up in steam don't worry, we're just heating the it up so we can suck off the moisture."

Bring Money

The last six months I was in the Military, the Army allowed me to wear civilian clothes and attend Methodist College in Fayetteville, North Carolina. The military was pushing College degrees, and if you (the individual soldier) were within one semester of obtaining one, Fort Bragg would release you from all duties to attend school at Methodist to obtain it. The College was all for the program; Uncle Sugar was paying all the fees and the College was growing like the troops were feeding it Miracle-grow.
While attending this fine institute of learning, I was assigned to read a story about a poor women living with three lazy sons, a slovenly husband, and a pack of dogs the men kept, which, along with the men, the woman was responsible for feeding. The woman had married the man, bore him sons, and then spent her life laboring for them. The men were demanding, ungrateful, and thoughtless. Even the dogs would howl and whine if they weren't fed on time. One cold evening, tired, old, and worn out, the old women began to trudge the mile and a half through the soft snow home from the grocer. The wind had picked up a little, and she was having trouble keeping her top coat button buttoned, a bag of groceries in each arm. Halfway home the dogs, hungry and impatient for dinner, came searching to hurry her. At home the men grumbled about a late dinner. And there in the snow, as the old women stopped to rest for a moment, she closed her eyes, and never opened them again. The dogs, sniffing the food, tore the bags open and feasted, afterward returning home. The old women spent her life, and last moments, for dogs.
I tell this story because BooBoo, my nephew's dog (Dogs 03Apr08), is soon to arrive from the city and I'm feeling a lot like the old lady in the story (my oldest son dropped a dog on me himself and then skipped off to Europe for life, seemingly).
Bring money nephew. Lots of it because I'm eight days from payday, and I got twelve dollars, four days worth of food, no gas, no grass, no ass, and I ain't looking forward to another dog I can't afford to feed.