Our world-class IAF routinely uses the airspace over my house for exercises. This morning a pair of F-16Is, judging by the empty hard-points on the wing, have been playing with the cloud boundary level, exploring the transition between visual contact and radar acquisition, I’m guessing. They take turns being the cat or the dog, hiding and revealing themselves for the kill. I wish them both good hunting. Might be the only thing protecting us from the rabid canines in Tehran. (That, and some ‘larger munitions’ we may or may not have wisely decided to build down in the desert decades ago, knowing that the brain-dead goons corrupting the possibly-salvagable message of Islam would likely turn the religion into a virus infecting the planet sooner or later.)
I was initially sad to feel with my tongue the strengthening-bunker of space-age plastic behind my new temporary incisors/cuspids on the roof of my mouth. I felt I’d been ‘had’. Sad and disappointed.
But as customary, a few hours on Google/Wiki, bless their hearts, reassured me that anything which helps the 10 titanium screws in my jaw-bone-of-an-ox to knit with the bone is an acceptable price. I try to remember that in the middle of the night when, like Oliver Sack’s deluded souls, I fight to rid my mouth of this foreign-body. Glad it’s not an imposter arm or leg.
It’s difficult to take a picture of one’s teeth.
I’ve not yet told the good news to some of my ‘free-soft-food’ providers. Small of me, but I continue thereby to receive care-packages of delicious warm-it-ups. Meanwhile, secretly, I can creditably bite through any but the toughest steaks. This does wonders for my damaged self-esteem. Man vs the Beast, you know, still relevant after all these millenia
I must say that I still have no final theory on what happened. An alien encounter seems most likely. I shall explain:
Lost Time: I awoke cold and un-conscious on the road-side. Took a surprisingly long time to register what might have happened. Yes, my bike was there behind me (where the lizards from Antares slyly left it?) but I sure as f*ck don’t remember falling. Plenty of time for a ride in an anti-gravity starship.
The Teeth??? Where are my teeth?? I searched the ground, both five minutes after regaining consciousness and several times since, with a magnifying glass. The area is clean, and if my teeth, all five of them, were ever there I would have found them. What exquisite secrets they must contain for the Perseid Dental Corps, who are fighting as we speak over the rights to examine them, like with the Moon Rocks.
The Leg Thingie?? What appeared at the out-set to be a simple bruise on my left leg quickly developed into a dripping open wound. Liquids of all colours poured from a quarter-sized hole in my leg. WTF? Pre-occupied with my other injuries (abrasions on both hands which have taken six weeks to even start to heal) I simply left The Phenomenon to attend to itself But I now have what feels for all the world like an apple or a Transmitter in my leg. A large hard object buried there. I want it removed, (but not before I down-load the play-lists). Seriously, the thing feels big enough that, with an internal antenna, it could be up-dating my every move to the Pleiades on 6 gigaHertz. Not that I go anywhere suspicious these days.
Butt-hole? Whew. Forget that part. The extra-terrestrial perverts must have wisely figured that there’s no Cosmic Wisdom down there. Pretty sure if I’d been probed I would have known it by now. So at least there’s that…
Seriously, I do understand better the propensity of folks less versed in science to jump onto the abduction band-wagon in cases like mine. If nothing else, it helps you to feel like less of a dumb-fuck for simlpy (sp?) falling off your bike.If that’s what happened???
I do want to thank, from the bottom of my teeth, all those whose expressed, or even thought to, their well-wishes. Love like that don’t grow on trees, on this planet at least…