Anal Probes down; Alien tourism on the decline

The number of alien sightings in our country has dropped well below the national average the past several years. Some fear gas prices in Alpha Centuri have caused lower interstellar travel. Others claim the instability in the Middle East have kept many aliens away. But I know the true reason… Aliens have already learned enough about us and are bored.

How sad is that? Human beings have been around for at least 10,000 years (depending on your various religious affiliations) developing different cultures, literature, and art. And in about sixty years of anal probing, extraterrestrial life is done with us. I for one feel violated.

What does that mean to me? Well, it makes me think we’re the Steve Eurkel of the galaxy; the George W. of politics, if you will. Earth is like that guy at work that you are forced to invite to your party, because you invited everyone else. But he’s uninteresting and no one has anything in common with him, so they choose to ignore him. Yeah, that’s us.

So the question is; what can we do? Well, for starters, most people who get abducted by aliens are unshaven, unshod, redneck hillbillies. It actually surprises me slightly that aliens kept coming back to anal probe these people for six decades. So I say we need to give them someone new, fun, and interesting to study. Rachel McAdams should be probed. There are others, but I won’t name them here as my wife may decide to scalp me and sell the top of my head on E-Bay, but you get the picture. Even if we can give them someone whose most recent shower was not a drizzle last week, perhaps we can generate new interest in our species.

We have an Earth Day, why not a Mars Day? Let everyone dress up as their favorite off-worlder (I’ve always been partial to Alf), show some Alien pride. Let’s not have a parade however. People may get confused as to which Pride Day they are at…

I mentioned in a previous blog that I would like to speed up our technological advances. What better way then ask species who fly through space on a daily basis? So put on that old E.T. t-shirt that’s getting moldy in your attic, put on that tin foil hat (as in Signs), and let’s phone home!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Meteorology: Writers needed

If America is going to improve, it has to happen one small piece at a time. I believe my suggestions could do a lot of good to reaching that end. For instance, forecasting hurricanes could use some improvements.

Let’s start with hurricane naming. If you tell me that Stan is coming over to visit, even if I’ve never met this person, it doesn’t exactly strike fear into the core of my being. Hurricane names are awful. From Ophelia, which sounds like a Shakespearan shemale, to Pablo, a little Mexican waiter, hurricane-naming conventions could definitely stand for some modifications. First of all, more dangerous sounding names need to be implemented to force residents to evacuate. Can you imagine Hurricane Vinny coming to break your kneecaps? How about Hurricane Tyrone? That’s not a brother you want to piss off. There are others such as Hurricane Herpes or Hurricane Mad Cow, that make me want to pack up and move inland. If worst comes to worst we can break out some of the truly horrendous-sounding names, like Hurricane N’sync or Hurricane Ricky Martin.

Not only do hurricane names need to change, but also their system of gauging a hurricane’s strength needs to be different. Category 5 sounds like something I marked on my taxes last year. Let’s come up with something a little more imaginative and descriptive:

Category Lights Out (Category 1) – Meaning, if this hurricane is bearing down, prepare to lose your power.

Category Treehouse (Category 2) – any trees in your front lawn will now reside inside your living room.

Category Volvo (Category 3) – The storm can blow a station wagon through your front door.

Category Ass water (Category 4) – Your house will be submerged in sewage.

Category Moving Day (Category 5) – Your current residence is about to change addresses, so you might as well also.

Something else that needs to change is to remove idiots from the weather channel from the beachheads. If the city or state government is advocating evacuation, would someone tell those dumbshit weather reports that they are not doing a very good job of leading by example? Cripes. Not only that but even our beloved Al Roker (mentioned in a previous blog) tried to get swept to sea during Hurricane Wilma (before stomach stapling this would have been an impossible task!).

Let’s get these changes instituted as soon as possible. Something that is several hundred miles wide and travels as fast as I can jog should never catch a city or state “unawares”. America is a big place; I’ll spread my wisdom as fast as I can.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

My Cat Needs Weight Watchers

My wife and I have two cats. They have the Laurel and Hardy thing going on. One is skinny the other is a solid black morbidly obese feline. I’m talking friggin’ huge. Think Sally Struthers. Marlon Brando. Old Elvis. I think you’re getting the picture. So here’s the deal. He’s a massive glob of fur and fat, and yet, I don’t feed him all that much. He doesn’t like treats, and for the most part he leaves people food strictly alone. Which begs the question, why is he so goddamn fat?

Inactivity is probably part of it. I don’t think I’ve seen a living being move so little since that woman on What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?. Occasionally he’ll get up and chase the smaller cat around. Perhaps climb our steps to feed on dry cat food. That’s about it.

There is the possibility that after we go to bed at night, he goes into the fridge and fixes himself some leftover fried chicken and a Miller Highlife, I’m not sure. I need to figure this out before PETA starts camping out outside my house, protesting that I’m over-feeding my cat.

I think he’s starting to take my verbal abuse to heart though. Every so often he’ll start puking for no apparent reason. I gather he’s semi bulimic. If that doesn’t work I guess I’ll just get him to lose weight the old fashioned way. Mix in a bunch of diet pills with a slim fast shake and make him snort some coke. Watch the pounds melt off!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Five Things Learned – October 2005,

1. A watch that states it’s water resistant up to 100 meters actually means it is water resistant outside of 100 meters from water.

2. A death sentence equals 20 years of life.

3. Tax Refunds aren’t free money. It’s money the Government borrowed from you and is finally paying you back a year later.

4. Children age four times faster than adults.

5. Dust is made up of mostly dead skin cells. So I’ve decided to gather enough dust to form a corpse.

Oh, it ended weird.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

A Roker leash

Al Roker, if you are reading this blog I will do anything, absolutely anything for just one favor. I will tattoo your name on my chest and prance down Times Square screaming your praises. I will bookmark the Today show on my TV for the rest of the century. Hell, I’ll break into other people’s houses and bookmark the Today show on their TVs for the rest of the century. Just please, please, don’t go through with your reality show!

There are already plenty of useless reality shows on television (Martha Stewart Apprentice, Biggest Loser, etc). Do we really need one about dogs? That’s right; Al has created a show that has hidden cameras to catch dogs being disobedient, and then he has some hard ass animal trainer whip them into shape. My first question is why are the cameras hidden? The damn dog doesn’t know the difference. Second of all, who the @#%^ cares if someone else’s dog is being disobedient? As long as it’s shitting on their floor and not mine, I could give a rat’s ass.

This is more reality madness that must be stopped! What next? Cat’s on the rampage!? Teaching Birds how to talk? Come on Al. If you won’t do it for me, please, do it for the children.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Cry me a Rivers

Joan and Melissa Rivers; this pair definitely need a blog dedicated just for them. If the inane, useless crap that comes out of Joan’s mouth on the red carpet isn’t enough, cutting over to her inane, useless, clone of a daughter is worse. Aack, and what the hell happened to Joan’s face? At some point you stop and let nature take its course. Her head looks like it is made of laffy taffy. The Crypt Keeper called, he wants his look back Joan.

The two Rivers can be seen on the TV Guide channel hosting red carpet events. I don’t know or care much about any of the award shows and only watch them when my wife turns it on. But what I do see makes me want to turn to that Oxi-Clean infomercial instead. Joan Rivers critiquing stars on their style points is like Mumar Quadifi preaching to Jesus about morality. And her daughter **Full body shiver**. Melissa Rivers looks like a science experiment that went wrong. As in the Island of Dr. Moreau. I get the feeling she’s going to pop out a baby girl soon and then we’ll have another seventy years worth of tasteless remarks about fashion… And that will still be Joan Rivers!



Is that Captain Stubing giving Joan Rivers a copy of his new book, "Save your Face, Kill a Plastic Surgeon"?



Okay, I give up, which one is Joan?




Melissa Rivers; meandering in her mother’s facesteps.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Salaried employees

This blows. Over the past week I’ve had to work sixty-five (65) hours. I received pay for forty of those hours. Not only that, but after I went home I dreamed about work. That’s just not right. Plus, I’m also on call for my company every third week. The week before I got called on a Production problem at 3 in the morning. Come on!

I’ve determined that my company owes me about twenty hours worth of wages a day for this entire week. I’d go on strike, but they’d just replace me when some guy from Pakistan that speaks no English and works for minimum wage. Hell, they’ll probably do that anyway when they try to outsource my job there. Therefore, I’ve decided to go postal. But because I don’t own a gun, I’ll have to use a shovel instead. It may be slow, but it’ll get the job done.

I’ll send you a post card from Prison.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~