I like pizza, but only when my mom sits on

I like pizza, but only when my mom sits on the couch with Nicki Minaj.

In 30 minutes, the hostage negotiator slid a banana curry pizza thru the doggy door. I scarfed it down while mom and Nicki Minaj watched, still chained to the couch. Sirens blared

and Nicki glared. My stomach chose that moment to wake up. A great roar erupted from within - the likes of which I'd never felt before. The door flew open knocking the negotiator

into the toilet. "Are you sorry I didn't close the lid this time?" I asked Nicky, but she was not amused. "Let's give him a Swirley," I suggested, even though my stomach was

churning. but I told Nicky was my calling, the Toilet Whisperer.

Nicky, with a raised eyebrow, asked me if that was a real occupation and if being a plumber would suffice.

Mexico. I don't want my boy using that fancy-schmancy space-alien talk.

It's bad enough the aliens came down here and built our pyramids, but now all the youngins are speakin' like 'em? That ain't right!

But in the end I guess the history channel was right. Everything that happened was a result of aliens. Now we the got one of them as the president of the world. Oh well.