We're being infiltrated by aliens

I don't mean illegal aliens from countries south of our border, either. I mean real, honest-to-goodness bug-eyed monsters, green-skinned, antenna-totin', straight from the red hills of Mars aliens. Only they're sneaky and they can disguise themselves as human. Sort of.

And how do I know this? You can always spot an alien by how they drive. For instance, the middle-age blonde woman in the SUV who nearly ran over me this morning had to be an alien. Even though she was holding her cell phone in hand and her lipstick in the other as she barreled along Highway 130 East, she was somehow able to steer (albeit badly). That could only mean she had a third hand hidden below the dashboard to hold onto the steering wheel and an extra set of eyes to see something other than her text message or her lipsticked reflection in the rearview mirror. Everyone knows aliens have three hands and three feet.

Otherwise, if she were human, that would have meant she was driving without either hand on the wheel, or either eye on the road ... surely not!

And the aliens are infiltrating our law enforcement, because there's no way a human, responsible, relatively intelligent police officer would run a red light on the Square. Alien!

They show up in unexpected places. You'd think aliens would settle in Washington, D.C., where bad manners and subversive behavior would only help them blend in. But, noooo. Instead, they pile 30 items in their shopping cart and stand in the express lane in Small Town USA. They stand in the middle of parking lots and hold conversations and block traffic at the same time. They put their advertising signs so close to the road merging drivers can't see the traffic coming and get in wrecks. After all, as aliens, their goal is to fund their world-conquering efforts with fender bender lawsuits and to generally annoy the human populace.

One of my favorite shows of all time was 'Third Rock from the Sun,' and one of my favorite episodes was when the aliens ran into Dennis Rodman -- apparently another alien. They ran down the list of celebrity weirdos to see who was or wasn't from another planet, including Madonna. Since then, we've got to add a couple who have come on the scene, such as rapper M.I.A., who just named her newborn baby Ickett -- which is SKJGSKJDYEDBIish for "He Who Will Rule The Lowly Humans." And then there's Nathaniel, the strange little alien on American Idol, and his evil cohort Tatiana, who thought their Planet Whineandwhimperish could defeat the world through pop music. (A previous attempt from the same planet resulted in Sanjaya, exposed early by his hair.)

But wherever there are evil aliens, there are the forces of good, who united to fight the evil aliens. One such freedom fighting force consists of New York fashion designers. Through careful study (and to refute the fact that they design clothes to make all women look like 12-year-old boys in drag) they discovered that aliens won't bother pregnant women. That's why all the styles today are either designed to get you pregnant quickly and often, or are designed to make you look pregnant. The ugly shoes are just a bonus.

Another alien fighting force out there are the YouTubers. Like Slim Whitman's destructive yodeling in "Mars Attacks!", viral videos have a deadly affect on aliens. They either become totally mesmerized by the sight of a sleepwalking dog diving head first into the wall, rendering them putty in our hands, or they become obsessed with making their own videos. Once that happens, we have it made, because we know Darwin's law applies to aliens and skateboarders, and especially alien skateboarders. The stupid stunts they will do to get their flickering 15 seconds of fame on YouTube are guaranteed to render them incapable of fathering children, or spores, or whatever it is aliens father. End of generation, end of threat.

You probably don't believe any of this, but just wait. The next time you're driving down the road and you see just one shoe lying on the side of it ... or the next time you're going through the bargain bin at the store and keep finding one unmatched glove ... then you'll know.