What the heck is it?
Galactic Customs is a work of pure fiction by three authors who really ought to
figure out better ways to waste their time. It's a work of comedy (usually, ok,
well we find it funny) and is published about every two weeks or so, barring
sloth, real alien invasions, or law suits.
Ok, who's responsible for this?
Bill Keane Jr.
Ok, not really, but the first reaction was "Ida-no" and I figured if he still
can't draw after more than thirty years of occasionally filling in for his dad,
he deserves the blame.
The real suspects are:
Born in the unsettled frontier that is Maple Ridge, BC, the young JIM
first bent the mighty forces of creation to his will when at the tender age
of three months he discovered static electricity. The family dog would never
be the same. Soon, he had launched himself full on into the high profile
lifestyle that is Electromechanical Physics. His nights were filled with
wine, women and song, until, fed up with his noisy upstairs neighbors, he
moved into a quieter apartment.
He cuts a rakish figure in his brown nehru jacket and magenta
parachuite pants, which at once both hide and accentuate the hardened
physique gained from years of puffin ranching in the eternal twilight
of the Arctic circle. His flowing auburn hair, tied back in an
elaborate braid after the custom of his Inca ancestors, is topped by a
battered duksy green homburg, which he will tell you, if pressed after
seven or eight Shirley Temples, he won in an all-night Go Fish
game from the Dalai Lama. His powerful size nine feet, with which he
can tie a horse-hitch in six seconds flat, are shod in a pair of worn
curly-toed Persian slippers. He has a ready wit and is quick to laugh,
but can be quick to anger and dangerous if challenged on the Penthouse
Letters and other writings sacred to his belief. He once gave a spare
kidney to a Somali orphan, and has dined with the Maharajah of
Brussels. He is always accompanied by Bojo, the young Burmese dwarf
that he rescued from a ravenous python during the war. He is the man
known... as ~Steve-o.
JR First came in the public eye with his off-broadway, one-man show,
"The Life & Times of Paulie Shore." However, his acting career was
shortlived. A tragic accident involving a waffle-cone and forty
gallons of banana-chip ripple left him permanently disfigured. This
didn't affect his reviews at all, but he decided to leave the life of
an actor anyway. He spent the next few years as Ricky Martin's dance
instructor, then, packing up his dreams in a duffle bag, he drove
across country in a VW Microbus, having many fun and wacky adventures
with a group of hippies. Eventually, he settled in Sunnyvale,
California. There, JR founded the "Herve Villechaize Memorial Home
for Wayward Midgets," which he runs with his wife, Gary. In 2013, JR
invented time travel. However, since he based the designs for the
time machine on a Crichton novel, he ended up with transcription
errors and went insane. He then began to write a vast manifesto,
which he sent back in time to a younger JR, who promptly posted it on
the internet as "The Grayhound Chronicles."
Because we love you.