He seemed to be leering at her. Accusingly.

He seemed to be leering at her. Accusingly. In one hand he had a spotlight, the kind you plug into a car lighter. In the other, Alize. He was drunk of course. And she, well,

she was taking the evening off from learning from past mistakes. Suddenly, aliens... no, just kidding... Alize patted him on the arm and said, "Maybe we can try this sober, if you

really want to get to the bottom of your psychosis." A soft rap at the window. Alize cocked her head. He looked up from the couch & outside. NOT kidding! Alien eyes were staring in

and an Alien hand waved cheerfully. It was kind of cute to see the curious green alien smiling with the dumbest grin. The Alien's big eyes reminded him of a puppy he used to

kick on the way home from his Sunday school class. The alien with the big cow eyes was looking at him in the strangest way, almost like he was flirting. OMG, the alien WAS flirting

got to stop. A majority of the time, I keep my get-it-in-get-it-out strictly intraspecies. An alien seems like a taste too difficult to acquire. 3 of its eyes cried, 3 lusted at my

Italian sausage and meatball stew, while its ten legs and forty-two arms wrestled with each other to get at the pair of large metal tongs hanging on the wall. I watched as it

tried to grab the tongs with first one hand, then another, then 3 at once - really, doesn't the nth hand know what the (y-4x)nth hand is doing!?!?!?! Quality control could improv

e if only it taught math in schools, & maybe something between quadratic formulas and differentials. But these days, they just want book reports and talent shows. Education died.