It's time I explained that there are aliens among us, yes there are, and don't be bothering me about no Mexicans, neither (not to mention certain transplanted Canadians). I live in the sweaty little penis (Pinellas County) of the sweaty big penis (Florida) of the United States of America, and I'm here to tell you that there are REAL aliens among us, and they are a sneaky, subversive lot, and it's time somebody stood up and spoke the truth, and that's me, that's what I'm all about this afternoon after my little bike ride with my belly all full of corned beef hash and eggs and potatoes yum. Nothing like a bike ride with breakfast to defeat all chances of getting fit ever again. Not to mention the doggy bag.

But where was I?

Oh yeah. Aliens.

Seriously now - you're going to think I'm nuts, but here goes:

I have an inny.

Some people don't. Some people have outies. I have an inny, in which the button part of what is called "the belly button" is cutely nestled in a deep dimple on my belly. And it is indeed cutely nestled, because what's not to love about my belly button, WHICH IS AN INNY BY THE WAY.

An outie, as I think we can all agree, is where the button part of the belly button sits atop the skin, with nary a dimple to call home. When we were kids, we had either innies or outies, and we didn't just compare notes, no sirree bob, we compared buttons dammit. Everybody had a button, and some kids' buttons were in dimples, and other kids' buttons weren't, and that was that. Innies and outies.

So we're clear on all this so far, yes? Because I'm going to tell you something quite shocking, and I want you to understand the import immediately. Here goes: There are creatures among us that have NO BUTTON.

I'm not kidding!

They've got the dimple --the rightful home of an inny belly button. But there's no button in residence. Zip. Nada. There's just this empty dimple, a tiny, neat little empty cave. (It's actually a little sad. So deserted. Hollow. Without soul.)

These creatures claim to be human, but how could they be? A human being has either an inny or an outie. So I confronted one of these beings, and you know what he said to me?

YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAID?

HE SAID HE'S GOT AN INNY. And I, apparently...

It's almost too shocking to type.

This... "person"... claims I've got an outie.

WHAT?!

Seriously. Aliens. Nice enough to marry and live with, sure. Buy a house with him. Let him convince you to ride a bike to the farmer's market and eat way too much corned beef hash and potatoes on the way home, okay, fair enough. But he's still an alien. Keep a sharp eye out. He's got no button.

No button at all.