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Spam-O-Lot, Part 2

Spam-O-Lot: Close Encounters of the Kinkiest Kind.

Many are probed, but few are chosen…

Don’t Believe Me, Huh?

Hey! Don’t shoot me! I’m only the piano player. I was just moseying along, doing my own thing, writing my little articles, taking my kinky calls, putting my little website together, and then…

BAM! All of a sudden —if you build it they will come— my website inbox was overflowing with their valiant and insistent efforts to reach out and touch someone, that someone being yours truly. Quite frankly, I was slow to catch on to the little celestial socialites’ efforts and kept haphazardly deleting their emails. God bless their little multi-chambered hearts (as is the anatomy of aliens), they just refused to give up. Day after day, email after email, they stalwartly clamored for my attention.

As they knew I would—that’s why they chose me, after all—I eventually caught on. I mean, after all, I’m no dummy. And while I haven’t been around the universe a time or two or three or four as these little star jumpers have (as is the itinerary of aliens), I have been around the block a few times.

The undeniable proof, which I am about to reveal to you and every other Doubting Thomas out there, is in the nomenclature. I think you will agree that it isn’t every day you run across someone named fufsmdkgtnr or pnkkvmmqjmp or majonB7y or uutoouicqyfyjz or magilljuju. I mean have you ever dated a guy named kato106 ?

Tell me honestly, when is the last time etkzojryx or didqi faraxh or qzloma or dtdxlzwm sent you flowers? See what I mean? It doesn’t take a Stephen Hawking to figure it out now, does it? These are not earthling names!

Alien Probe: Fact or Fiction?

Well, well, well! I guess we both knew it was going to come to this, didn’t we? I let you in on the biggest news since Roswell—that ET is phoning MY home, and your one-track mind goes right to dirty stuff. Don’t bat those baby blues and feign innocence; you know exactly what I am talking about: Alien Abductions! And you and I know and everybody else on this planet knows what the abductees say about their abductors: Anal Probe!

I won’t beat around the bush, because you are a nosey Parker and aren’t going to let up until I spill the proverbial beans. So while it breaks my heart to say it, say it I must. These little galaxy gallopers are in all likelihood serial inter-species heinie-humpers, methodically leap-frogging their way across our little blue planet. Did they actually communicate this to me? No, they did not. (In fact, all of our close encounters have been one-sided, meaning their-sided, which I will get to in a minute.)

I’ve come to this conclusion due to the hyper-sexual nature of their emails. And, believe me, you can tell a lot about what stirs their peregrine loins by reading those emails! For example, ysudnpsmbwm@numu.com (golden showers!) likes to see “blonde drizzle pee on hot hunk,” while dzbozvyjhcs@yahoo.com (MILF!) is turned-on to see a “mature wife shave pussy,” and walrkvzkvbe@hotmail.com (inter-racial!) is enthralled with a “pigtailed ebony beauty gets cum all over chocolate nipples.” Then there is ivaljibwmmb@yahoo.com (obviously a nature lover) who is preoccupied with a “luscious nymph” who “masturbates her cunt outdoors.”

I have to hand it to them, they’ve even assimilated our earthly fetishes. Take for example tetsuyablanton@yahoo.co.uk who keyed me into his little idée fixe for lingerie with “beach bimbo gets pounded through silk panties” or mondoptqrrr@mordani.net who let the cat out of the bag about his thing for strap-ons with “butt slave worships female’s dildo and jerks off.”

Then you have the ones that are simply all over the map, tri-sexual, as in they “will try anything sexual,” such as mrkdlvm@jaxqi.org who enthusiastically (and probably salivating green alien goop) invites me to watch as “bartender fucks male client” and “Asian lesbians lick pussy” and “porn star spreads in a bikini” and “nasty brunette takes cum bath.”

Filthy little intergalactic interlopers, aren’t they? But there you have it, my friend. If these guys are this consistently tuned-up, you can bet they are sticking their frenzied little alien units into any orifice they happen upon. And we know who those orifices belong to, don’t we?

And while it may not be as unpleasant an experience as we might fear (Did you ever notice that the abductees seem rather benign when relating the details of their abduction and subsequent probing? Indeed, I get the impression that some might have actually enjoyed it.), I am sure that you, like me, prefer to side-step any such encounters. Personally, I’ve lined my walls, floors and ceilings with aluminum foil, and I suggest you do the same. Oh, and you might want to keep a supply of Vaseline and condoms on hand…just in case.

2 Responses to “Spam-O-Lot, Part 2”

  1. booklover Says:

    One doesn’t expect great satire in cyberspace – but this has been a wonderful pair of postings. Keep writing, girl.

  2. jeremy Says:

    Now, who say Independence Day? I have the tape and those aliens could really type! The Randy Quaid drunken character, whose claims of alien abduction are so roundly ridiculed, is indeed vindicated. And he alluded to “sexual” experiments. Angela, you have cracked the code!