In case you haven’t noticed–and judging by my web stats, you haven’t–I’ve been getting a lot of spam in the comments area lately.  I recently changed the commenting policy from “must register before posting” to “anybody can post.”  And of course that means I now get a fair amount of spammer jackholes showing up.

You may wonder why I don’t just delete these obvious spam posts.  Well, the truth is that some of them say nice things about me and my awesome blog, so I let them have their link to their dirty porn site or whatever it is they’re spamming for, because hey, they stroked my ego.  Sure, those posts were probably written by a robot who didn’t even read the article, much less understand it, but I’m so desperate for affection I’ll go ahead and approve any bit of broken English that tells me I’m awesome!

The best ones, however, are the random Russian spammers.  I’ve approved several comments from Russian spammers so far, mostly because it turns out Russian spammers are completely awesome.   The Russian prostitute spam is pretty straightforward, but my favorite so far is this guy who quoted Cervantes at me.  I don’t speak sputnik, but thankfully Google translate does.  Otherwise, I might not receive the wisdom of the great Russian spammer philosopher-poets.  And I definitely wouldn’t be able to get a date the next time I’m in Moscow.

Anyhow, thank you spammers for all your kind words and the great links to products I’ll never buy and websites written in a language I don’t understand.  I don’t know what what I’d do for entertainment without you!  I mean, besides read my own awesome blog.

There are different kinds of crazy.  There’s the kind of crazy that makes you chop your family up with an axe and feed them to the dog.  Nobody likes that kind of crazy.

There’s the kind of crazy that makes you walk around in public shouting at things that aren’t there and getting into fights with imaginary people.  That’s a sad kind of crazy, something to take pity on and try to help if possible.

Then there’s this kind of crazy.  The kind of harmless, way-out-there crazy that makes a person build a large elevated platform in the middle of nowhere and call it a UFO Watchtower.

In the middle of Colorado’s San Luis Valley, just outside of Hooper, lives the self-proclaimed “Crazy Lady Down The Road“, Judy Messoline.  Judy apparently moved to the San Luis Valley to be a rancher, but quickly found out that cattle don’t eat rocks and dirt, which appears to be all that grows on her property.  So, being the entrepreneurial sort, and being a big fan of shows like “Sightings” and “The X-Files”, she built the world’s first UFO Watchtower.

Now, right away you’ll notice something weird about this watchtower.  First, it’s not much of a tower.  It’s really more of a watch slightly-elevated-platform.  It stands maybe 12-15 feet off the ground.  Second, and most confusingly, is that there isn’t any reason for the thing to even be “slightly” elevated in the first place.  The thing stands in the middle of a giant featureless plain.  Usually watchtowers are elevated to see over the tops of trees or nearby hills.   But not this one.  This one is elevated… just because?  I guess because “UFO Watch-fenced-in-area-on-the-ground” didn’t have the same ring to it.

If you visit, Judy will apparently let you camp out on her property.   She’ll also gladly sell you all manner of craziness in her gift shop, and show you her magic garden.  This appears to be a circle of random trash strewn on the ground.  But… I guess it has healing powers?  It’s unclear.  The website claims it also has two vortexes, and then defines vortex as “portal to a parallel universe.”  That’s not the definition I found in my dictionary, but hey.  I’ll go with it.  I’m told there’s also a magic shrub.  Nobody is really clear on just what the shrub does that is magical, but shit man, it’s a magic shrub!

If you feel like donating to the cause of UFO spotting, Judy has a handy list of things she needs on her website.  She lists things you’d expect to see, like money, picnic tables, benches, and playground equipment.  But you’ll also find more esoteric needs, such as Geiger counters, seismographic equipment, 55 gallon drums of paint, black helicopters, and my personal favorite, jet packs.  Hey, just so you know, I also accept donations of helicopters and jet packs.

And of course, no crazy UFO related website would be complete without a list of sightings.  My personal favorite is the one about the hunter who told of his hunting trip the previous fall.  He’d stopped for a bit, laid down on a rock to rest, and the next thing he knew, he’d lost three hours!  Shit, that happens to me every night!  I lay down on my bed to rest, and I lose like seven to eight hours at a whack!  Holy shit I’ve been abducted too!

Anyway, there’s another type of crazy I didn’t mention earlier.  It’s called “crazy like a fox.”  If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that’s the one that probably describes Judy the best.