A few months after I arrived on this planet, I was given something called Dog Tags.
Yeah, I realize the year is blacked out. On my home planet, we are all 35 all the time, okay?
Then they took something called a Passport Photo.
Of course I look worried. Placing it somewhere in earth time, I’m thinking:
1. What do you mean, I have to cross the Atlantic on a big ship? Did you earthlings learn nothing from the Titanic?
2. What do you mean, there’s no Beatles music yet? What do you expect me to listen to?
3. Hey, dumbasses, you misspelled my last name on the Dog Tags. What am I, some blend of Irish and chocolate? Wait. That’s not so bad…
Mmm Irish chocolate. I like chochrane chip cookies.