What they don’t tell you in xenoarchaeology school is that aliens are stubborn little shits. All of the textbooks taught hypothetical situations where a worker in the field would knock on the door of an alien's house and said alien would open it, smiling, and give the individual all of the information he or she needs in order to complete an entire thesis. But in the non-fantasy world, aliens don’t do that. Ever. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an alien, in the flesh, for more than three seconds at a time.

     Welcome to my livestreamed journal, all who are joining. I see people from as early as 2018. That's swell! I am here to inform you on my job as a xenoarchaeologist, and what the world is like with aliens living amongst us.

     From the day I saw all four Men in Black movies in a row, I wanted to study aliens. Of course, that was when I was twelve, and aliens hadn’t yet colonized on earth. So you can imagine my excitement when the first spacebus touched down in central Nevada, and real, live aliens stepped onto terrestrial soil. 

     These aliens, however, look nothing like they do in the movies. There are two types: the magnaliens and the demaliens. The magnaliens are seven feet tall exactly, and have hunchbacks. Similar to the archaic and extinct gorillas, only skinnier. The demaliens are precisely three and a half feet tall, and are a product of body reformation after splitting in half in order to increase the population. I only know this because a very lucky xenoarcheologist had a chance to speak to an alien who was dying, and the alien told him some secrets about his kind. However, the alien didn’t get very far in the conversation without falling out of consciousness and succumbing, a mere six-hundred five years old. 

     As I write this, I will embark on a new discovery. I seek to find out the psychology of the aliens. I have put a special protection on my computer so that they cannot see that I am writing this. (You see, individuals of the past, aliens have telepathic access to electronics, so if we talk about them, they know). Luckily, my good friend Albert invented an encryption that will ensure privacy from this telepathy. I knew a guy once who had sent an instant message to his friend telling him the location of a family of aliens, and a few minutes later, the computer exploded and the guy died. I’d really rather that not happen to me.

     In order to truly capture the essence of the aliens, I will first have to travel to their community and do some spying. It will not be easy. I am aware of a loner alien who lives by the intersection of Shusett Street and O’Bannon Street in Lunacide, Nevada. He will likely be a very interesting one to