Space Aliens Are Attacking!

Okay, not really, but it makes a catchy title?


Anyway–the Hop Against Homophobia is still going on today, and by all means ping back.  I swear, I shall use the randomizer to pick two winners later on tonight and I’ll announce the winners in my next post.  But, in the meantime, I had this bizarre little story I’m driven to share:


This happened Thursday night.  I was up late, writing and posting for the Hop Against Homophobia and finding cute pictures that I couldn’t make fit which was why I shrunk them all, and by the time I got to bed, I was grumpy.  Things got worse.


I got to bed around one, and, as I had promised, with plans to grope him on my mind.  (Mate groping makes a marriage work.  It’s truth.)   Anyway, in mid grope, Squish comes to bed.  She comes to bed like a hyperactive beagle.  Gets up, turns around three times, grunts, does the fainting starfish, whimpers, says, “hug me” then spreads out between the two of us.  So there I was, thinking, “I wanted to continue to grope Mate!” when there was a noise.


It was an odd noise, out of place, sort of metallic.  I look up at the foot of the bed, and there is an odd shape, glowing green from the DVR, but the light is refracting off it… it is making these odd, metallic noises.  

“Mate!  Mate!  What is that?”  I tug on his sleeve over Squish’s sleeping body.

“What’s what?”

“I think it’s the cat,” says Squish, completely overlooking that it was FLOATING IN MID AIR!  (Besides–why is she even IN our room?)

“What is it?” I ask, seriously panicking. 

“I don’t know…”  Suddenly he sits up in bed.  “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?”

“I’M SAYIN’!”  

“OH!”  He lays back down.  “It’s your mylar balloon from mother’s day.”  

I think, “Oh thank God!” and lay back down, and just at that moment remember that I promised Chicken I’d do laundry.   Yes.  Laundry.  At gawdawful in the frickin’ morning, I’m doing laundry.  By the time I get back to bed next to Squish who is now asleep, it is now 1:30.

The cat wanted booty call at 3:30.  (What?  Doesn’t YOUR cat do booty call?  My cat does booty call.  She gets all sexy up against me like I’m a piece of sleeping meat.  Slut.  The worst part is when she bites my nose so that I HAVE to be awake while she’s using me.  Fucking cat.)

Booty call ended, and Zoomboy came to bed at 5 and whimpered for hugs and then thrashed around until I yelled at him, and made him cry and go snuggle with dad.  

6:30.  Time to wake up.  

Finally, this morning as everyone was leaving, Mate patted me on the shoulder and said, “You had a rough night!”

I said, “Stupid balloon.”

He said, “I know.  I thought it was a bird or something.”

I glared at him.  “Bird?  I thought it was a SPACE ALIEN!”  

He laughed his way out the door.  Seriously.  A bird?  If it had been a bird, I wouldn’t have been awake enough to do laundry!

And just as a side note?  As I was looking up adorable space alien pictures for this very short post?  I was looking for sort of sexy ones–you know, so we could see them kissing?  Cause I thought it would be cute, right?  So I typed in Space Alien Sexy into my image search engine. 

DON’T EVER DO THAT. 

There are some things you just can’t unsee.  *shudder*  God.  Does anyone have any legitimate porn?  Yarn porn?  Sock porn?  I need to scrub my brain!