Call Me Crazy, But that UFO Came Down in the Field by my House in 2012 and When the Little Aliens Came Out They Told Me to Shoot John Lennon’s Abused Son Julian Lennon
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Look, man, I admit maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that whole bowl of ayahuasca brew that uncontacted tribe in Paraguay sent me, but I swear to you I’m not messing around here. Call me crazy if you want, but that UFO came down in the field by my house in 2012 and when the little aliens came out they told me to shoot John Lennon’s abused son, Julian Lennon.
I may not remember yesterday, but I remember it like it was yesterday. November 7th, 2012, at approximately 1:46 AM, my parents had fallen asleep after Florida was called for Obama (take that, Romney, this country will never elect a rich, white elitist!) and I was up playing Mario Kart 7 on my sister’s Nintendo 3DS. I started hearing this ominous humming coming from outside the window, which made me nervous because it wasn’t the promising humming I was used to. Then, a bright blue light started to appear. By this point I put the 3DS down and had my eyes glued to the scene outside. What I saw stunned me. This giant silver disk landed in the field right next to my house.
Naturally, thanks to my good fight-or-flight instincts, I jumped out the window to go see what was up. Now the last thing I expected to see was two burly men having sex in the field, which was a good assumption because that’s not what I saw. Instead, these two little grey aliens were standing next to one of the landing legs smoking Newports. Now this is where shit really got weird. One of these little grey fellers looked me in the eye and spoke to me using his brain. He said, “Kill John Lennon, Kill John Lennon, Kill John Lennon.” I kindly explained to him John Lennon was already dead, to which he looked a little glum, but then he just told me “Kill John Lennon’s abused son, Julian Lennon.”
Dude, that’s like a message from God or something; that’s totally the hand of destiny reaching out and stirring up my brain matter to give me a holy order. I have to kill Julian Lennon. So, call me crazy if you want, but you know who’s going to believe me? The 19-year-old clerk at the Walmart when I ask for a Glock with hollow points. He’s my real supporter in this.