Don't tell a soul, but...


On June 5, 1964, I was abducted by aliens from the planet Bog and beamed up to their mother ship.    

June 5, 1964       


Onboard I was examined thoroughly with different probes, some of which hurt real bad and were the least bit embarrassing.



Getting an ouchie.


I was subsequently transported to their home world and held captive for the next 30 years.  In the meantime, an exact replica of me was sent back to earth where he (it) proceeded to make a perfect mess of my life.  


The alter-me, probably not having a good time either.



While Bogside, I was forced to mate with thousands of Boggy babes in order to strengthen the Boggy gene pool.  And, no, that wasn't as much fun as it might sound.  In fact, kids, it was a lot like work.  The uncompensated kind.


They were insatiable in their desire.



All Boggonians smell like Kansas City Masterpiece Original Barbeque Sauce.  I mention this in case you're thinking about inviting me over to your place for a cookout -- you now know what not to fix.  

When I finally got back to the house, Coach Bear Bryant was dead, a company named Microsoft had a lock on all virtue, and a homeboy from Arkansas had actually been elected president.  President!  Cheezits, what a homecoming.

Somebody naked on HBO every night.


As for the mess the alter-me made, I'll be shoveling that pile for years to come.

That's my story.  I'm going to stick with it for now.


Paul Childers




Some stuff I remember



artwork by Paul his ownself