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RandomGimme an R! Gimme a D! Gimme an O! Gimme an N! Gimme an M! Gimme an A!What's that spell? Rdonma! I hadn't noticed before, but Rodman is random turned around in wierd ways. This means something. Aliens, probably. Everything is aliens. Aliens in the White House, aliens in the sewers, aliens replacing your manicurist. Yes your manicurist. Haven't you ever wondered why he/she/it/they have huge, black eyes, grey skin, long, thin fingers, stand 3' tall, and only make chittering noises that somehow your mind translates into the correct statements? Aliens can be manicurists too you know. It's mother wanted it to be a doctor, or maybe a lawyer, but it just loved the idea of being a manicurist. Whenever it goes home for the holidays, it's mother always says, "Why couldn't you mutilate cows like your brother Morrie? When you were young, you always talked about making crop circles, why don't you do that?" But it loves it's work, and no one will take that away from him. No one! Suddenly I awoke. My head itched, and I reached up to feel my forehead. My hand touched something metallic. I ran for the bathroom, and saw in my mirror an implant steadily burrowing into my brain. I felt woozy. My vision cleared, and my forhead looked normal. Everything was okay. Everything was all right. I must conform. I must obey those in authority. I must not question. Questions are a burden on others. Answers are a prison for the self. Um. Random. Thought you had left that behind, didn't you? Later.
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