Unh, hunh. I suppose you expected yet another Martian Broadcast this month. Like I've got nothing better to do than sit in front of a cheesy web cam and ad-lib my heart out about how Reptilians and Grays have turned my life into an outer space sitcom version of the movie "Le Papillon". Wrong.By the time I fire up this old Commodore 64 PC with it's rinky-dink 28.8 bps modem, adjust the web cam settings, place the stick microphone within speaking distance but out of camera range, and take a little snooze while the dinosaur dial-up connects me to the Internet, what invariably happens? If Liz, the big-ass Reptilian warden, doesn't find me and mop up the place with me or zap me with her discombobulator, I have to pee.
That's why I look like I'm wired to the eyebrows on caffeine when you catch my videocasts. But I'm not some caffeine-injected conspiracy kook who's one step away from the loony bin. I'm a kidnaped conspiracy buff sending another urgent S.O.S. to a bunch of Earthlings who'd rather point at me and laugh than listen up and band together against the New World Order and any extraterrestrial race that thinks kidnaping, torture, false imprisonment, vivisection and murder are not punishable offenses.
By the way, my conspiracy shit is as good as anyone else's, and most of it is based on real experiences and observations, not on wild conjecture, projected romantic fantasies or the sorry camaraderie between aging Trekkies who finally decide to give the real world a go before they get beamed up to St. Peter. Too bad there isn't a free thinker among you.
But I know you don't care about what I just said. Most of you are too busy aping the rich and famous to give a shit about being yourselves. And, right now, I'm too busy trying to find a half-eaten Hershey Bar somewhere than to whine and cry and finger point and squeal on cam about Earth's underground government. I'd rather suck red stones for ancient salt and eat stinky Martian mushrooms all day long than risk my hobo butt for a bunch of Earthling butt heads.
Yeah, yeah, I know. You get "sick and tired" of hearing about "the underground government". That's because you don't pay attention. If you paid attention, you'd get the message. But I'll indulge you for the last time. The underground government (or the "New World Order") is nothing but a bunch of Benedict Arnolds who gladly trade their fellow citizens for alien technology, most of which they use to spy on *and control* you.
So, don't pretend you have a clue about what's happening in this solar system when you don't know squat about Earth. If you haven't looked very hard into what's happening in your own pathetic life then you've ignored the big picture altogether. Hell, the Illuminati don't need to keep any of you on a leash. Hollywood, TV, Madison Avenue and the World Wide Spider Web do that for them. And don't even think about catching a podcast from me in the near or distant future. If I knew how to do anything in "real time" it would be hopping a natural wormhole back to Pluto where people either "listen up" or else they find themselves in the slammer.
Shit. Now I have to pee. Why do I torture myself?
*Post edited on April 5, 2014 for clarity
