We aliens know you have been troubled by our probing over the years so I am writing to clear up the matter of why we probe you.
It’s really quite simple. We probe you because there’s no other way to get through to you. You do not listen. And we have had it up to here.
It’s not because you’ve been bad, though some of you certainly have (Kathy). It’s because we’ve tried every other way we know how to get in touch with you and nothing else works.
We learned rather quickly that sound wave telepathy isn’t your strong suit. You either sleep right through it or swallow a pill to ease the headache we’ve given you.
Up in space we have a joke that, roughly translated, goes “Are you talking to me? Put something in my mouth.” It’s based on you.
And if we’re being completely honest a few of your heads outright exploded into bits when we telepathically sent you messages. We don’t technically feel what you call “compassion” but neither do we aim to explode your heads. (maybe we do a little).
Then we tried standing right in front of your face. Literally. We looked you right in the eye while you picked your nose and stared right through us. We thought maybe you were seeing something we couldn’t until we entered your mind space and realized 99% of the time the males were thinking of genitals and the females were thinking of errands they had to run.
Admittedly, the forms we presented to you were light forms, not corporeal forms. But a corporeal form for us is something akin to squeezing into a penis hole. We’re not fond of it.
What mystifies us is you could also in an instant be a light form but you’re so dumb you don’t know it. You might as well drink your own piss. Oh right, I forgot, some of you do (I didn’t really forget, I don’t forget anything).
Then we invented TV for you so we could get to you that way. That didn’t work. We built you a space program so you could visit us. That didn’t work. You have the mentality of a frightened immigrant afraid to leave his one block neighborhood radius. Ooooh, the moon. Give me a break. That’s like vacationing in a parking lot.
So we decided to eavesdrop on your conversations. Aside from the weather, which dominates a good part of your conversation — I can’t tell you how, many times one of us has said “they’re talking about rain again” — you mostly talk about putting things into the “anus.”
We understand that it is what you call “taboo” on your planet, which we find surprising considering we’ve been watching you for eons and there hasn’t been one day on Earth when the majority of you aren’t anally probing yourselves, but when the aliens do it then suddenly everyone’s up in arms!
Oh no, not the aliens, no, they’re not allowed to probe us, only we’re allowed to probe each other. Only we are the special ones. (I hope I’m using sarcasm correctly?)
We thought we were giving you what you want. Granted, our extra terrestrial phalluses are much longer and electric than your human stubs.
They don’t just probe; they radiate your entire being so that you feel our alien thrust, all of its harnessed psychic power. Perhaps not for everyone. We know it’s potentially frightening but if we’re going to unite this galaxy then we have to “get ‘er done” as you say.
Many of you have been successfully probed by us and gone to work the next day, feeling completely normal if a bit “on.” A few of you have been traumatized and killed yourselves. We can’t help but feel a little flattered.
We do tend to favor the males of your society. Their anuses provide a richer soil for our alien phalluses. We know you tend to call it “gay” on Earth; we just call it “probing.”
You might be asking yourselves why we are so intent on reaching you, why we have to probe you at all. Well, because we’re lonely. And frankly, because it feels good.