Stolen Lines #1

"I tried to think of the right answer. Unable to think of that, I spoke anyway."

Clearly there are only two reasonable explanations. The first, aliens. The second, the CIA. I ran into the living room to show it to Oleg. I sat down on his stomach, ripped off my sock, and showed him the evidence.

"Aliens removed the nail polish from one of my toenails."

He blandly examines my foot, which now has only 4 painted toenails.

"Those bastards."

"No I'm serious! This isn't funny. Why would they do this?"

"What makes you think this is the work of aliens?"

"Ummmm, because what other explanation could there possibly be?"

"Well, yes, clearly alien involvement makes the most sense."

"Dude, I am not saying that it makes sense, I'm just saying there's no other explanation."

That's not entirely true however. There is another possiblility, one far more sinister than mere aliens. And it's one that I'm afraid to tell Oleg about.

It could also be the CIA.

You may ask yourself why either the CIA or aliens would be interested in removing the nail polish from one of my toes...well, the truth is, the aliens I'm not sure about. I guess they have their reasons. Maybe they didn't have time for an anal probe? Maybe they're mystified by the human practice of applying colored varnish to our toenails, and want to test the substance out to see if it contains some kind of crazy earth magic? Maybe they were drunk? Who can ever really know the mind of an alien?

But the CIA? Well. I have a theory on that one. I have been stockpiling things. Like powdered sugar for example. You know, for baking? And tape. You know, for taping shit. I've been googling things. See my post above. Things like, "off the grid" and "government plot" and "survival gear" and "shotgun permit" and "do you need to be a double amputee to successfuly pull off DVDA? (the answer is "yes" by the way- Just ask Hilda "stumpy" Rachmann). I have been entertaining myself with youtube videos of protests and riots worldwide. I have been asking friends and family things like, "Where the hell is your sense of rage? Why are you still drinking their flouridated water? You know this is all part of their plan, right?"

But the fatal mistake was last week. I went to Change.gov and asked a few pertinent questions. About student loans. About what is being done to stop Codex Alimentus. And perhaps most importantly, whether they're concerned about civil unrest, what the likelihood of martial law really is, and whether we, the citizens, should be making our own "preparations." It was with this last one that I realized that I perhaps went too far. That there was a good chance this would be miscontrued. So I deleted all of them.

Which of course looks more suspicious.

So obviously the solution (in case I'm under surveillance now) is baking. Yes, baking. Because nothing throws off the CIA when they're illegally ransacking your house, like a house full of baked goods. So I made a french silk pie. Then I made banana bread. And then a cheesecake. So, umm, if that's you guys outside, there's nothing going on in here....just baking up some ginger cookies!

I also bought a sewing kit. You know, cause revolutionaries don't sew. They have "people" for that. So when the CIA breaks down my door, I'll be sitting here sewing, with a kitten on my lap, and I can be all "Hey guys, I was just sewing something. Feel free to take a look around. Would you like a ginger cookie?" And they'll be all- "Oh sorry, wrong house. Your cookies smell good, may we take a few?"


Why the CIA would want to remove nail polish from one of my toes is beyond me. Their methods are extreme, and their logic will be only be understood from a distance. I mean, why did they all dose each other with acid and then sit around the office like a bunch of duds? Everyone knows you head out to a laser light show, or a parade, or a gay bar.

Anyhoo. This is the second possible explanation that I'm afraid to tell Oleg about. For now, I'll stick with the aliens. So when the CIA breaks down our door as we're watching the X-Files in front of a warm fire, I can look at him accusingly and be like, "Dude, what did you do? I know they're not here for me. I've been busy baking!"

I would take a picture of my foot with the conspicuously missing nail polish on my second to the last toe, but I have no idea how to upload the picture from the camera to this blog. And you know why? Because revolutionaries have "people" for that kind of thing. So I need to wait until he gets home. I hope he doesn't forget the powdered sugar.

First two sentences have been taken from Night of the Avenging Blowfish, by John Welter, per Grace's experiment.