Bathroom Serial Killer

I was just thinking that if I was going to be a serial killer, I would want to pick my targets from someplace really unimaginable, like the public bathroom, or the water fountain in a public park. But I don't think I'm ever going to be a serial killer. Not because I'm not filled with impotent rage and a desire to harm random strangers. Just because I'm too frickin' lazy to do anything that involved. I mean, it takes quite a bit of planning to be a successful serial killer, and if you're going to deliberately launch your life in such a twisted direction, you really owe it to the public to do it well enough so that they'll be entertained when they go to see the movie, right? So no random murdering of strangers for me. I got too much other crap to deal with right now.

Seriously though, I just read this book, "Way of the Pilgrim" which was very entertaining but kind of mired me in this existential question. Could man be happy as the slave of an entirely alien race if they were stronger and taller than we were, more disciplined and more honest?
Or is our xenophobia so genetically ingrained that we would resist alien rule just because they were aliens?

I am so not writing my 10 minutes per day. I might be writing 10 minutes per week if we average it out over the last 2 years. And include every time I filled out a form at the doctor's office, and entered a sweepstakes at the grocery store.

And this wasn't ten minutes either.