I got abducted by aliens last night. Not that big a deal actually, it happens to people all the time, and there was nothing really exceptional about my experience compared to everybody else's alien abductions. I'll spare you most of the details because you've heard these stories a million times before, and my experience was no different. You know, it was the usual quick jaunt to the mothership where I was strapped to an examination table under twilight anesthesia, while the little gray guys used pointy tools to examine my rectum. Like I said, same ol' same ol'...

What has really moved me to share this experience is the sense of flattery I feel, knowing that this advanced civilization from a distant part of the universe has developed to the point of being able to travel from galaxy to galaxy, communicate without sound or writing by simple mental "source to source" patch, overcome the effects of gravity, immunize themselves to our poisonous oxygen laden atmosphere, and make such a arduous journey just to study the flora of MY colon and lower intestines. Why ME? Is it a puzzle to them that I've survived 50 years with my "diet of death," what with all the fast food and chocolate donuts? Is it because I'm lactose intolerant? One out of four people are, so what would make me unique?

I just think that their insistence of passive examination is such an inefficient approach, given that theoretically THEY'RE the smart ones. They could have just asked. I think they would have learned so much more by asking me about my lactose intolerance than paralyze me and scoop around. I would have just told them, you know, "As much as I like them, I stay away from milkshakes. Easy on the cheese when I'm out of the house for extended periods or going on lengthy car trips", but I guess they felt that shutting me up and poking around and guessing would be more informative than just asking, but who am I to assume? After all, THEY'RE the advanced ones, not me. Who am I to argue with worm hole shooting, galaxy crossing, anti-gravity capable little gray dudes that don't even wear so much as a tool belt or carry a note pad, cell phone or PDA? I guess of all I've accomplished in life, nothing quite sizes up to being one of the "Chosen Colons" of the universe. I guess this is something that REALLY sets me apart from the pack, and for that I'm flattered.

I guess my hope is that if I ever come across my little intergalactic proctologists with their alien rectal specula again, we could just talk about it. They'll learn a lot more about humans and their "mystery colons", and I'll learn a lot more about them. They could ask me whatever they'd like, and I could ask them if they're so fucking smart, why can't they just Google: COLON, like I would? I'd be more than willing to help. I'd give them all the information I could and help in any way, after all, knowledge is power. Hell, I'd even get them strawberry ice cream, blueberries, chicken nuggets, or whatever the heck is on the Area 51 menu that day. I'd be happy to set them up with some prolific, non-HMO associated internists who could actually chart out, in detail, the chemical breakdown process of enzymes and bile, and the associate remnant waste and gases that are a result thereof.

All in all, I feel special that they chose me, and I'm willing to give back to them by offering the concept that communication would be far more productive than invasive curiosity. It's just sad that they've come so far to take the slow road to uncover this, and of all things, digestion. Maybe they'll be willing to return the gesture by filling me in on some "matter / anti-matter" or "time / space continuum" pointers. After all, to most humans, the string theory is "you'll keep your teeth longer if you floss after every meal".

And dammit, I didn't have a camera handy, just like every other abductee, so I guess you'll just have to take my word for it, but I digress...