THE ACCEPTANCE
Jesus H Christ
So there I was exposed to a bloody alien at the age of 26 and no chance of anybody believing me.
Grar-B. Grar-B. Been with me since birth! Uses my computer as a message board! Come on.
If I get this right while I’m trying to seduce young Emma from production in my apartment my alien could be seducing Emma’s alien or discussing our sociological or cultural progress. Shit no wonder people talk about looking over their shoulder.
Anyhow, having got over the shock & being in a profession where imagination feeds the mind I decided to write this to share my experience with the world but also to make some bucks. Hey life in advertising is short and although I was hired with enthusiasm I’ll probably be fired with enthusiasm in a couple of years and bang goes my dream of homes in New York and Dubai with a 60 foot yacht in the Caribbean to sail the world.
Anyhow, there’s me and Grar-B a bloody alien. We’ve made contact. We can communicate. Me by thought, as he can read my mind if I address it to him, and he responds by encrypted email. Well encrypted only to everybody else. I can read it . To others it’s a sort of indecipherable alphanumeric mosaic image like a Jackson Pollack painting
So, having established he’s there and 'I’m feeling like a farmer from Idaho who’s been abducted by an alien craft for three weeks' had a sperm and brain tissue sample taken and deposited back in the mid-west two minutes after the encounter of the fourth kind. Like who the f****s going to believe this? Well as an adman who’s practised at observing human behaviour and trying to determine how to turn them on to a products proposition I reverted to type and started to ask questions.
