Oh the Places I (Probably) Saw

Ditch on the side of the road

My home away from home.

A part of the What’s Up With Stuff series.

It was 2:00 AM eastern when I woke up in the ditch in front of my suburban household, dressed in nothing but my jimmies.

How did I get there? Well, that’s a different story altogether.

Back in 1976 I took part in some bizarre experiments for the government- which government I can’t say. Let’s just say that I would have been strung up for treason three times over if it had been found out. When you’re a starving artist like Rex, you do what you can to ensure that you’ll have enough money to keep the girls rolling and the whiskey flowing.

The experiments always made me drowsy and often I’d find myself blacking out on my way home from them. It was like those nights in Seoul, when the alcohol would hit you just right, you’d forget all about the fact that you might not have worn a rubber with that person you brought home, except without the headache the next day. In other words, it was the perfect blackout.

From time to time, I’d remember what I thought were dreams from the blackouts following the experiments. Mostly it was me pinching butts and whistling at women- nothing out of the ordinary. Every now and then, I’d remember bright lights and a surgical mask, vaguely human figures standing around me speaking in tongues I can’t begin to replicate.

Go ahead and put two and two together. You’re correct, your beloved Uncle Rex was more than likely kidnapped by aliens. Makes me think that maybe the “government” I was working for was really just a shell set up by visitors from other galaxies and dimensions, but I’ll get into that in later blog posts.

So after about 15 whiskey sours and skiing some hard slopes with questionable folks on the fourth, I blacked out. I came to, like I said, in my ditch at 2:00 AM eastern Monday morning.

Now that we’ve surpassed the 300 word mark (a few years ago I realized the lazy-ass Robot Butt higher-ups only have the attention span for 300 word), I’ll tell you the truth. I got knock down, drag out wham-bam-thank you ma’amed with questionable folks, just like I said. However, there weren’t aliens involved. I just don’t remember Saturday or Sunday.

Happy birth of freedom, everyone!

Rex Forsight

Author: Rex Forsight

After more than 30 years in the news game, longtime writer Rex would love to retire to Cancun. He hopes to leave Robot Butt HQ at some point in the next decade. You can follow his grandson on Twitter @bripbrop.

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