Fred Fortune's Christmas Past

The Saturn Outernet Bad Bartender Alert

If you see this man on either Saturn or Pluto, please call 2-800-NAB-ABUM

The Bum Who Would Be King

Down and Out in Cydonia

As promised, I said I'd re-post that animated caricature of Liz, the big-ass Reptilian warden who runs this little Martian San Quentin. Now my ass will be in another wringer when she sees it. She still thinks it was me who posted it in the first place, so that's why she'll be gunning for me the second time around.

By the way, I didn't re-post the caption that the real culprit put beneath this animated gif when he put it on the Saturn Outernet late last year, Earth Time. I thought it was stupid. It said, "Liz Licks Bug Butts", which is about as dumb as they come. Which also tells me that the original poster just had to be an Earthling from The Big Apple. Don't ask me why. And, more than likely, he was a former Wall Street stockbroker, probably one of several whose pockets I've picked for candy bars and chewing gum. That's why he posted it in the first place. To put me in Liz's gun sights so she could zap me good and put me out of pickpocketing commission for a while. Which she did.

Incidentally, this dumb-ass animated cartoon character doesn't resemble Warden Liz in the least. In fact, it ought to compliment her because this little lizard is kind of cute, if you ask me. The real Liz, who looks like a cross between Godzilla and Agnes Moorehead, blew her stack over the insinuating caption, "Liz Licks Bug Butts", because it's basically true. Whenever Reptilians run out of mice and big-city hoboes from Earth, they've been known to dine on insects, butts and all.

So, did I give this animated caricature a new caption? You bet I did. Being a hungry, homeless bum in the ruins of a Martian capital is being just about as down and out as you can get. And the only real cure for being down and out is pulling a prank on the one who keeps you in that homeless, hopeless matrix. So, I re-captioned the image of this little lizard licking and licking away to read:

To Liz, from Fred:

"Bottoms Up!"

or should I say:

"Bon Appétit!"

Biding My Time

Just so you know, I'm not planning on becoming a permanent resident of Mars or anything like that. It may have been a great place to live at one time but Mars is pretty much a cold, red desert these days. It's not much better in the underground where the Grays and Reptilians have their climate-controlled, artificially-illuminated prison for abductees like me who failed the DNA test for helping out the Grays with their biological experiments.

Every bottle of Muscatel I downed back in the alleys of Los Angeles was a feather in my cap in that respect. The Grays are nothing but a species of kidnapers and Josef Mengele wannabes. And the Reptilians who run their underground Martian San Quentin for them are just a bunch of loose cannons who enjoy using Earthlings for target practice and even having them for lunch. That's why I escaped on their asses and why I spend most of my time roaming the canals and making videocasts denouncing their evil, lab-rat empire.

Still, I'd like to get off this planet once and for all. I'm tired of living hand-to-mouth and ducking ray gun pot shots from Warden Liz and her sadistic underlings. I'm also tired of ducking haymakers from other homeless bums from Earth who think I might have a Mallo Cup concealed on me somewhere. By the same token, I'm tired of laying haymakers on them in order to rifle their pockets once they're down for sourballs and chocolate leftovers and things like that. But I have no idea how to get off Mars.

I know I'll never return to Earth. Earth is a dead planet that just pretends to be alive. Mars might be run by lizards as big as kangaroos for moral vacuum tubes like the Grays but at least they don't pretend to be the good guys. That's strictly an Earthling phenomenon.