Vacation, Letter 8

Sorry guys, I went on a short vacation. I went to visit a friend in Nashville, so I wasn't able to post. I also didn't send any letters in that time, so I have some catching up to do. Yikes!

Here is Letter 8:

Dear [adult swim],

Last night, as I was trying to break into my back door, I looked into the sky and saw a star. Now, there wasn't anything special about this star, not in appearance anyway. It wasn't terribly large. I didn't hover around, or shine a beam of light on me, or flash, or anything like that. But it did seem to call out to me; like a deviation from a pattern attracts the eye.

When I compared it one by one to the stars around it, it really didn't seem different. But still I was certain it was. I was certain that this was my star; the star that contained my home planet. Thence came I.

I can now say with confidence that I am whatever-in-the-hell you call the people that came from whatever planet might circle that star. I did some research and I found that the star name is Beta Cheek 89, which is a shortened form of Beta Exponerum Asinus Chaecus 89, found on the back side of Orion. It is one of the stars of the lesser known constellation of Orion's Exposed Ass Cheek. Apparently when the hunter wanted to agitate his quarry he'd simply moon them.

I told my wife about my discovery that I was from Beta Cheek and she said that it seemed about right to her because she had known many aliens in her time and it would make sense that they weren't all good lovers. I'm a little afraid to work out the math behind that sentence.

"So," she said, "Is your real name Michael?"
"Yeah, why?" I asked.
"I don't know. It just doesn't seem like an alien name to me. An alien name would be a bit more unique; a bit more memorable."
"My name isn't memorable?"
"Not really. It's kinda boring."
I stared at her for a minute. "Is there anything you like about me?"
"Look," she said, "It's not your fault. You didn't pick your name. But if you're gonna be an alien..."
"I am an alien."
"Ok. Since you ARE an alien, shouldn't you have a name that stands out?"
"How about Jucie Newton?" I asked.
"You really are stupid, aren't you?"
"What? You said it needed to be memorable."
"I also said it needed to be unique."
"Ok," I said, "Aside from Juice Newton, who else do you know with that name?"
"Oh, well," she said, "You've got me on that one."

Juice Newton (formerly Michael)
March 3, 2007

Ps. Technically my name is still Michael. There are some legal barriers standing between me and my new name, and there's no telling how long it will take to overcome them. Ms. Newton said that I did not have permission to use her name, and when I pointed out that she was not using it she hung up on me. I also approached OJ Simpson and Nabiso's Fig Newtons to see if they would marry and then adopt me. OJ was all for the idea, but Nabisco is asking for some pretty extreme pre-nump terms like, "no murdering." Besides, Orange Juice Newtons just doesn't have the same ring to it.