An Article with 18 Euphemisms for 'Nipple'

I’ve been on the receiving end of a deluge of mail lately. It turns out that people like me, they really like me, and they don’t want me to take the anonymous threats of internet troglodytes too seriously. I’m flattered by these missives, and even more flattered that people were able to see through this cloak of comedic intellectualism and spot my precarious, fragile self-esteem. I appreciate every email I get, and these have made me feel rather a bit of a cad for not updating more recently.

Here’s how the process works: first, I decide to update the site. I pick a topic upon which I’d like to expound (the recent California coast ‘mystery missile’ as well as the ‘time travelling silent film cell phone lady’) and read up on them. Then I decide that those items are unfit for an article and, my very soul in torment at the thought of failing my beloved readers, I drink myself to sleep. The next day, there’s a lot of vomiting to be done, and sometime in the afternoon I begin to scrounge the gutters of the internet for material to flesh out the not-quite-an-article. Sometimes, I get sidetracked and just write an article on a totally different subject.

That happened today. I was jumping from alien abduction report to alien abduction report, reading a few lines of each one before deciding that they were light in terms of comedic/intellectual potential, and I stumbled across this phrase: “Because the experience had disturbing sexual aspects, Peter [the abductee] was very reticent to talk about it.” My interest was piqued; I continued to read, hoping that if I was going to spend my afternoon reading about non-existent space monsters, at least I’d get to read about non-existent space monsters having sexy times.

There is nothing sexy about this story.

Whoever wrote that the experience had ‘disturbing sexual aspects’ is either the absolute grand Zen master champion of understatement, or has seen some freaky, freaky shit. I’m talking Republican Senator’s wildest airport bathroom dream freaky, because I thought I had been some places, and reading this tale made every single sperm cell in my body die, screaming.

The good news is that, if you can make it past the absolutely heinous details, you will see a tale of such stuttering goofiness, such incomprehensible ridiculousness, such jaw-dropping lunacy, that you will be richly rewarded. If you are made of stern stuff, of stalwart countenance, of absolutely iron-clad stomach, I would urge you to read on, but that would be to misrepresent this tale. One does not read it; one exposes oneself to it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Peter Khoury was born in that jewel of the Mediterranean, Lebanon, in 1964. He moved to Australia in 1973, where he met a young lady named Vivian in 1981, and married her in 1990. They now have two children. A picturesque story, you would think: he managed to miss Lebanon’s Civil War, by all accounts a dress-rehearsal for hell, and started a lovely family. I’m sure there are white picket fences involved, or perhaps the Australian equivalent (white picket anti-dingo obstacles). Perhaps it would have been a storybook life, had space hookers not begun forcefully bringin’ the dingin’, if you know whats I mean.

Peter and his wife had their first UFO experience in February 1988, before their marriage, when they spotted some ‘unusual moving lights’ in the sky. In July of that year, though, Peter had a “consciously remembered contact experience”, whatever the hell that means, that runs along the fairly standard abductee storyline. Lying in bed one night, he felt something grab his ankles, his body went numb, and he spotted four tiny, robe-wearing creatures standing around his bed. One of the monsters told him not to worry, because this would be just like the last time, before jamming a very long needle into Peter’s head. After he passed out, regained consciousness, and then started freaking out, he and his brother came to the conclusion that it was about 50 minutes later than they expected it to be. And who did the needling? These beefcakes:

Monk from beyond the moon; Beefcake from beyond the moon; Peter on the thinnest bed ever

The next morning, Peter and his wife discovered a spot of blood and a puncture mark on the side of his head. Wait. Where was she during all of this? Why was Peter’s brother there? Well, maybe they do things different in Oz. Perhaps she was out tending the… billabong… or something.

Apparently Peter had never heard of alien abduction before, making him the last person on the earth who hadn’t heard of it. No seriously, with all of the UFOs in movies, television, supermarket tabloids, your uncle’s weird jokes, t-shirts, and other miscellany, this is a big deal. I don’t expect the guy to be an expert on the subject, but “never having heard of alien abduction” means he’d never even heard of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, a movie that made $9m in 1977? Hogwash. If he had “never heard” of alien abductions before, that means he had lived his entire life up to that point in either a coma or a cave. The insistence that someone has “never heard” of alien abduction until their own abduction is always a warning, to me, that there’s something not kosher about a story.

Anyway. By sheer coincidence, Peter spotted a billboard for Whitley Streiber’s book Communion. Peter bought it, realized that his experience was very similar to Streiber’s (who, I should mention, is an out and out nutjob, but that’s for another time). In 1993, irritated at the lack of support for abductees, Peter started the UFO Experience Support Group, of which he is leader to this day. In 1996, he mentioned a second experience to UFO researcher Bill Chalker; this is the experience about which he was ‘reticent’ to speak. Well, as reticent as a guy who starts a public group, writes books, and goes to conventions to give speeches can be.

It is this is the story that made my nightmares vomit.

According to 1996 Peter, on 23 July 1992 at 7:30 in the morning, he had been laying in bed. He’d been injured on the job, and (after having driven his wife to work) he’d decided to take a nap and let his prescription painkillers do their thing. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright in bed, for he was not alone.

Alas, it was not the hooded dwarves that had needled him so long ago. These creatures were much worse: two beautiful, naked women, and they expected HIM to do the needling this time. If you know what I mean. Wink, wink. The women, to quote the UFO casebook,

“…looked human in nearly every way. They had well proportioned adult bodies. One looked somewhat Asian, with straight dark shoulder-length hair and dark eyes. The other looked perhaps Scandinavian, with light-colored (‘maybe bluish’) eyes and long blond hair that fell half-way down her back. Her hair was especially notable to Peter Khoury. ‘I had never seen a hair style like that. It was curled something like Farrah Fawcett, but to an extreme... It just looked really exotic in a way,’ he told Chalker. But Khoury felt that these women were not exactly human. Their faces were somewhat odd - not unattractive, but too chiseled, with very high cheekbones and eyes that were two or three times larger than normal. Khoury took special notice of the blonde. Her face was too long, he felt. ‘I have never seen a human looking like that,’ he said.” SIC.

This sort of tale isn’t exactly without precedent in the UFO literature. The space aliens of the contactee movement were almost always human-looking, and even such modern abductees as Travis Walton, of ‘Fire in the Sky’ fame, report space dames sporting some sweet hair. And outside of the UFO literature, it happens now and then. For instance, I’ve woken up to a pair of strange naked ladies in my bed at least twice. Both times the encounter ended the same way: I exhausted the duo, sexually, using only my resplendent genitals and detailed knowledge of the birth canal. Admittedly, it was an inelegant solution, but the ladies would not be dissuaded. But those are stories for another time; the time being, I’m afraid I insist, shortly after you buy me a pint of the strong stuff.

The website for Khoury’s UFO organization includes two paintings of these harlots from beyond the moon. Since this is a family website, I’ll put them at a link here. Don’t click that link if you’re reading this from work, unless you want to have to explain to the IT department why you’re scoping out alien titties on the company’s dime.

And here’s where it get’s disgusting. The blonde grabbed Khoury’s head and forced it to her breast. He, for some reason, wasn’t down with this, but when he tried to resist, she just forced him. Apparently, she was very strong. Khoury did what any reasonable person would do: he bit a some of her nipple off. The crunch berry chunk got lodged in his throat, and as he began a coughing fit, the blonde looked really annoyed with him, as if to say “that’s not how you make babies!” Doubled over coughing, Peter was unable to dislodge the chunk of alien knocker and didn’t see how the two women disappeared. He went to the bathroom to try and wash the savaged headlight down his throat with a glass of water, but to no avail. And that’s when he realized he had to pee urgently, although his penis was in intense pain. Pulling back his foreskin, he found two blonde hairs wrapped tightly around his unit. He then went and got a sealable bag and carefully placed the hairs into it because, in his words, “…I knew that there was no way, no way at all, that a hair that size and wrapped around the way it was should have been there.... Thinking of these women, the thing in my throat, the hair, something bizarre had just happened."

There’s no sense in delaying the pain. I might as well just come right out and tell you: Khoury never got the mangled chunk of funbag out of his throat. It stayed there for three days, despite the fact that he ate and drank any number of things trying to dislodge it, and for three days he had a coughing fit, knowing that a lacerated boob bit was wedged in his windpipe. On the third day, though, it just sort of went away on its own.

The idea of biting a tater tot so hard that you tear it off the hooter and it gets lodged in your windpipe is not just one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever heard during a UFO story, it’s one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever heard, period. Period, end of chapter, end of the damn book, let’s burn down the library. Ugh. Every letter I type about this makes me wince, and every sentence makes me dry heave. Ugh.

Now this could be where the story ends. Where a sane man would end the story. But Khoury makes other abductees look like amateur punks. In 1998 a group carried out DNA testing on the hair (which they very proudly state is ‘polymerase chain reaction (PCR)’ DNA testing over and over again, to make it sound extra fancy and scientific).

I’ve not been able to track down an actual report from the actual scientists that carried out the testing (yes, having a Ph.D. in materials engineering means that I’d be able to make at least some sense of a scientific report even though it’s not in my area of expertise), but I’ve been able to come across this summary in a couple of places:

“The thin blond hair, which appeared to have come from a light-skinned caucasian-type woman, could not have come from a normal human of that racial type. Instead, though human, the hair showed five distinctive DNA markers that are characteristic of a rare sub-group of the Chinese Mongoloid racial type. A detailed survey of the literature on variations in mitochondrial DNA, comprising tens of thousands of samples, showed only four other people on record with all five of the distinctive markers in the blond hair. All four were Chinese, with black hair.” SIC.

First, let me just say that “mongoloid” is their word, not mine. Maybe it refers to Mongolians? The results seem to indicate to the UFO enthusiast that in ancient times the earth was visited by these blond ‘Nordic’-type aliens, who apparently had lots of sex with ancient Asians, and now some of those Asians carry that space monster’s genes. Or something. The claim that history must be re-written is omnipresent, but the exact reasoning is hard to get at. The argument seems to rely on the fact that a blonde hair came off an Asian. They ruled out chemical treatment of the hair, i.e. dye, claiming that it would have totally destroyed every single molecule of DNA in the hair. I’m not sure that’s true, but even if that were true, and it’s a blonde hair that came off an Asian, there are plenty of explanations that make more sense than anything involving huge-hootered harlots from beyond the moon.

Maybe the hair came from a woman with a European father (from whom she got blond hair) and an Asian mother (from whom she got her mitochondrial DNA; nuclear DNA cannot be tested in hair unless a root is present. Also, mitochondrial sequencing is way cheaper.)Or maybe it came off an Asian albino, rare as that may be. The only reason everyone thinks the hair is blonde is that they take Khoury’s word for it. It’s described as “almost clear”. Maybe the hair came off of an elderly Chinese woman with gray hair? ‘Rare’ as the results are, there’s nothing about them that says anything other than “normal human hair.”

Speaking of rare, if “four” out of “tens of thousands” of people have this marker, that means a whole lot of people have this marker. There are over six billion people in the world; if 4 out of every 20,000 people have these four markers in common, that means that a bit over 1.2 million people fit the bill. Again, that’s just rough numbers. But it’s still not anywhere near as rare as the UFO enthusiasts want to think, and much more rare than they want you to think. That this is an ultra-rare genetic marker, and therefore space aliens messed around with us in our ancient history is a total red carp. It’s not rare and there’s zero evidence it’s related to space aliens.

But that’s just a brief overview of the scientific reasons that this story makes no sense. If you stop and ponder the exact mechanics of the story, it starts to crumble in your hands like a boner at the thought of eating a severed space jug. First: what was the point? The impression that I got from reading Khoury’s account was that the ladies were there to get their sex on. Presumably, they would use this as a mechanism for gathering, ah, genetic material for their space monster scientific research. The way that David Jacobs would argue abductions are to get genetic material to breed a master human/alien hybrid race to enslave all mankind. So if that’s why these two naked ladies showed up, how does one explain what a shitty job they did? She tries to smother him with a boob, and when he bites it, they just vanish? They don’t even stick around to give it a second try? Well… they sort of give it a second try, because Khoury finds a blonde hair on his wang, despite the fact that he doesn’t mention any missing time in this part of the story. Let me absolutely clear: if you have sex with a dude, and you leave hair from your head wrapped several times around his penis inside his foreskin, I don’t know what in the hell you’re doing, but you’re definitely NOT having sex with him. Someone as stupid as a vacuum cleaner can figure out how to get a man to bust a nut as long as he’s lying naked on a shag rug, but space aliens who are specifically determined to get a man to swap the tartar sauce send a pair of hot women to earth with no better understanding of sex than “it probably involves putting his tube steak in your hair”? The aliens can apparently build beautiful naked space ladies, conquer the non-trivial challenge of space flight, but don’t know how a dong works? And why were there two of them? I mean, I know why I’d WANT there to be two of them, but space aliens sending two? I don’t get it. It just doesn’t make any sense.

And even if it did, Khoury’s actions are inexplicable. He’s standing in his bathroom, gagging on a piece of shredded sweater balloon lodged in his neck, and he has the presence of mind to carefully unwind two hairs from his penis and go through the trouble of getting a plastic bag in which to store the samples for future research? Maybe he’s a better man than I am, but if I’ve got a part of a space hooker’s gazonga lodged in my throat, my cock could rot off for all I care. It could just turn green and fall off my body, I wouldn’t give a shit. My number one concern, my only concern, would be to get the blob of diamond cutter out of my throat. I certainly wouldn’t give future scientific endeavors a second’s worth of thought, unless that scientific research was in the field of dislodging that pink thimble from my neck. Combined with Khoury’s other weird claims, that he had never so much as heard the phrase “alien abduction” before spotting a billboard for Communion, and that he’s reluctant to talk about the incident because of its disturbing sexual nature despite starting a UFO investigation group, writing books on the incident, talking with numerous investigators, attending UFO conferences, and just generally trying to ride the story to fame and riches, and you’ve got what I’d consider a pretty suspicious story.

All we really have left are a couple of really, really strange stories with nasty sexual undertones, without any other witnesses, and the most important story (the one with the Brustwarzen eating) didn’t get told to someone outside his family for several years. There’s one piece of evidence, the hairs, but as weird as the DNA typing looks at first glance, there’s absolutely nothing about that hair that makes it any different from a normal, everyday human hair.

Indulging in 100% pure speculation is, of course, a tricky subject. A UFO enthusiast that reads this will now summarize the article as being naught but unfounded accusations. But I’m feeling bold - Here are some scenarios that seem to me the most likely explanations:

First, Khoury and his wife spot some lights in the sky in 1988. Fine, I’ll buy that. Like any ‘lights in the sky’ report, it could be any of a thousand things, and probably had some totally terrestrial explanation. Second, Khoury has either a weird-ass dream or a spot of sleep paralysis that makes him think monks from beyond the moon are needling his brain. The spot on his body that he declares must have been from the incident is either psychosomatic or something totally normal (like a wart or what have you) that he leaps to conclude is proof of space monster shenanigans. If you prefer the second explanation, like I do, perhaps he just made the mark himself. Finally, while under the influence of painkillers, he has an erotic dream that quickly turns into a bad trip. Maybe it goes from erotic dream to space alien fantasy because of his previous interest in UFOs. At some point he finds a hair in his house, originating on the head of an elderly Asian person, and determines that this is the physical proof that he needs. The three days of coughing is due to how disgusting this dream is; as a point of comparison, I won’t be able to get an erection for at least a week after writing this article. But I’d like to point out the painkillers part again. He was so badly injured at work that he had to take time off and consume potent pain medication, yet this only gets a passing mention in versions of the story. It seems like it might have a little more import than people let on.

In my opinion, the more likely explanation is that the guy just made all this crap up because he wanted either the attention or the money. The investigators certainly aren’t giving away the book they’ve written. He certainly hasn’t played the shrinking violet since founding his UFO enthusiast society; it would be so easy to have told the story anonymously, but despite his claims of humbleness, he’ll forever be known as the guy with the extraterrestrial tongue depressor in his throat. The thing that makes me feel this is most likely is the fact that he stopped choking on a chapel hat peg, freshly ripped of a turtleneck melon, to scientifically catalogue the evidence.

In the end, even if you reject these two scenarios, this entire case boils down to a single hair that could have come off of any one of millions of purely human people. That, and a story that no one else can corroborate, for which no other physical evidence exists, and which just flat out does not make sense. Sure it’s possible that Khoury’s story is true, but it’s not the most likely explanation by a long shot.

Be seeing you.