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not yet
i haven't finished waxing
by roy clifton daniel
5.24.04
humor

Just got a forwarded email from a dear friend that asked the question 'Are you from outer space?'. I fit all 13 criteria. OK, so now I'm from some far away fabaceous galaxy and got misplaced on this ball of dirt. Your point? On the upside, this has now allowed my vocabulary to expand with the phrase, "Sorry, not my planet monkey boy". I wasn't disturbed. I wasn't ruffled. I wasn't even 'newly informed'. I just figured that it was about time to own my alien ancestry.
I struck out to examine all data supporting said astronomical dislocation. Age 5: Dad decides to bring home take-out Chinese food. (suspicious behavior in and of itself) He drops by in the MGB (definite alien vehicle) to deliver a cask or two to an aunt nearby. All the rest remains atop the British Leyland. We had Moo Goo Guy Sand that evening needless to say. Hmmm, geophagy, primary alien behavior pattern. Age 8: My evil brother would tell my sister late at night that she had a 'little man with sharp teeth' crouching beneath her bed waiting for her to drop off to sleep and... My sister would emit a 'Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers' type Edvard Munch-faced scream. Definite alien response. The neighbors were discomposed.
Age 10: New kid moves to the neighborhood--from Alaska. I befriend him. Alien behavior no questions asked. Age 12: Post projectile athletic event occurence--Female of supposed earthling species sought osculatory connection with my extraterrestrial bazoo (perhaps I'd performed exemplarily in the projectile contest). We remained firmly conjoined despite the forward motion of land vehicle piloted by aforementioned evil brother. Only a being from beyond could accomplish such a task. (ok maybe osculation was so rare that it was treated with extreme relish)
Age 16 and 30 days: Sped past creeping 'Toyota Wagon' in intergalactic late model Buick at intersection, pulled over by city police force (spacial profiling--they were stopping all space creatures that evening). Explained my need for speed was attributed to a rare medical condition. "What planet are you from boy?" was the earth-representative official's question to me. At that moment, I really didn't want to tell him. Age 20: attending institution of higher learning- travelling in vintage land vehicle (equipped to accomodate 3 life forms in the frontal compartment) in search of consumables. I was stationed between the land vehicle pilot and the third frontal life form situated proximal to the escape hatch. At each traffic flow light emitting device third frontal life form proximal to escape hatch would feign having to relash the lace of his harsh terrain foot covering, thus illiciting the appearance to other observers at each point of conjunction that land vehicle pilot and I were the only occupants of the forward compartment and were by choice shoulder to shoulder. I didn't get it. Typical alien cluelessness.
So here we are age 29+ still seeking to fit in on planet Earth and with Cassi, Earth Girl on Campus, wondering when I'll be exposed and deported. Meanwile, there are many other things I don't get. Like why there is no word for 'dude' in the Chinese language. Like the little windows on macaroni boxes- for you to see in or them to see out? Like why guys don't get bikini waxes (the pain is exquisite). ...and why there are circular scorch marks on my back lawn, why I have short term memory challenges and why I stare longingly into the night sky, call the name 'Brensnork' and develop a tear in my eye.
Once I had a friend (planet unknown) whose most often asked question was, "What da hell is goin' on here?". My whole life is like that. You know the feeling when you are at the top of the stairs yet you step as if there's another? That's so me. I almost refuse to look in a mirror again because of the pulsating luminescence in my eyes. Mostly I wonder, you think you're on to me, monkey boy, huh? You'll eat dirt. OK, we'll have General Soil's Chicken or Chicken with Topography. Phone home? Not yet. I think I like it here. You've got tasty dirt. Hot wax is pretty yummy too.


ABOUT ROY CLIFTON DANIEL

Found under a highly creative rock after having been raised by wolves that fostered his nurturing since he was rejected by the flock of penguins that spurned him simply because of a slight mutation... After a brief but ever so traumatic tryst with an Amazon code-authoress he's now back in action (Action Figure Sold Separately)and more dauntless than ever. Morticare tibi Clinicus tibi: 'What don't kill ya kin heal ya'. Mens supera res: Mind over matter- if you don't mind, it don't matter!

more about roy clifton daniel

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COMMENTS

tracey kelley
5.26.04 @ 12:16a

It's gotta be said: you're a mutant penguin, Roy.



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