Alien Abduction...Now Accepting Applications

Today my site counter came back and my readership demographics showed my blog is now global! To all you Brazilians who read my blog yesterday, welcome! And feel free to leave me a comment next time!
In an unrelated development, my Google homepage changed it’s logo to crop circles with a UFO over the “O”. I’m sure this has something to do with marketing, but as soon as I saw it this morning I had to check the news to be sure there wasn’t an alien invasion while I slept. This is one of my worst nightmares and yet I can’t help but watch every movie with alien characters. It’s a fascinating concept…being watched & studied by advanced beings from another world.
If this blog should happen to be transmitted into space and an alien happens to read it, I have some thoughts I’d like to share.
The “probing” we keep hearing about. Even we lowly humans have MRI machines and CAT Scanners, so is anal probing really necessary? I would like to think if you have a star ship that travels light years, you would have a scanner that would make my probing less invasive and uncomfortable.
The fact that people remember this probing and report back. Again, hasn’t your cutting-edge society created some sort of memory obliterator? You know…eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Why are we always missing time when you return us? If you must study us…could you at least send us back thinking we were visiting an Italian vineyard or something?
The removal and replacement of body parts. I’ve heard abductees report that their arm was sawed off and reattached. Could I trade that procedure in for a tummy tuck and some lipo?
Why are people always taken from a desolate location? You’ve scared me into only driving during the day, in a well populated area and when I’m camping I want to bungee myself to something permanently attached to the ground. Fire in the Sky…we’re on to you!
Taking us against our will. Can you get George Clooney to escort us to your ship? We’d follow him anywhere.
And why are all your victims always guys named “Bubba” in cut off flannel shirts? So much for a cross-section of data from around the globe.
But, if you’re willing, I would like confront my fear and volunteer for some probage…I’ll be the one holding the sign “will work for plastic surgery”.