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We Are the Ululating Tzatziki


“Take us to your proctologist,” said the largest dollop.

This utterance represented the evolutionary summit of the Ululating Tzatziki. From this point onwards it was all rapidly downhill.

“Wot?” said the Earthman, who took his cigarette out of his mouth and looked about the dark train platform.

“Take us to your proctologist,” came the voice again after a pause. “We are the Tzatziki. We ululate.” It sounded like speaking was difficult.

The Earthman looked on, entirely unable to grasp the momentous event that was taking place before his eyes.

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“In those days,” said Grandpapa from his recliner, “space was not yet a vacuum, and hellfire had a name unmathematical.”

The older kids playing poker at the table rolled their eyes. The little ones on the floor kept setting up Mousetrap.

“But Grandpapa,” Ivy looked up from the instructions. “Space was always a vacuum.”

“Now you’ve done it,” groaned Rory and threw his cards down.

“We couldn’t quite escape, you see,” said Grandpapa, “we had not yet tamed the demons. Not entirely.”

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Important Information about Alien Tumors

Not all brain tumors are alike. Some are self-aware alien entities you bring back unwittingly from your research dive in the Falkland Islands. They begin as tiny organisms which slime their way through your ear canal and settle into your brain like fat royals at a luxurious five-star resort. They gorge on electricity, blood protein and brain fat, growing rapidly in the fractal folds of your cerebrum like those wacky toys from China that expand in water, only more insidious, as these tumors are self-aware and what you are experiencing is in fact an alien takeover.

Of course, you won't know this at first.

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bill magnuson and his leaf blower must die

a friend told me
there is a huge cash reward
for proof
aliens are here
among us
visiting our earth

i have such proof

in fact
aliens told me directly
(telepathically of course)
that the next time
my neighbor
bill magnuson
turns on his leaf blower
on a perfectly sunny day
and ruins my solitude
destroys my peace of mind
my precious quiet...

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Bad Dogs, Good Tricks

Dr. Nelson believes I have a distorted view of reality. I’ve argued that even Psych 101 students know we all invent our own world. Not one is the same, or real for that matter, whether or not those worlds include two-headed people with proboscis noses and tails made from their own arms, or furry kittens with cloven hooves. I have a “crass imagination, ill-paired with an absence in forethought,” so I’ve read in the charts.

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