When I was a child I feared alien abduction.
As a teen, I thought alien abduction was so fuckin' stupid, and I wanted nothing more than to key up their flying saucers, and slap cold cuts all over the hull overnight to fuck up the saucers' paint job, dude!
As a college student, I realized there was no such thing as an alien abduction, and so I sought to narcotize my nihilism with online gaming, drugs, booze, social media, and marathon sessions of group fucking.
As a grad student, I wrote my postmodern thesis: Anal Probe Semiotics in a Post-9/11 Universe: On the Limits of Saucer Shaped Discourses.
My PhD thesis was titled Probing the Field: Extraterrestrial Analities from Roswell to Tic-Tac.
After getting my PhD I took a position at the respected Shindig Institute think tank. I headed up the Office of Probity, in which, as part of a larger fact finding initiative, I took on the role of an alien and carried out numerous abductions. Indeed, I had become the very thing I once feared!
And now, in my disillusioned middle age, I know the truth: the one I most wanted to abduct . . . was my own self . . .
Elaborate sighs and swooning unto death.
