UFONY Jan 1991


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UFONY                            January 1991               Volume 1, Number 1 

                  The Magazine of the Electronic Underground 
                  Against Nonsense and in Support of Reason 

UFONY is published by Ultrarad Software and is Copyright (C) 1990, All Rights 
Reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to republish  this issue of UFONY on 
computer Bulletin Board Systems (BBS's) and in computer-oriented newsletters 
provided the issue is published intact and without added internal comments. 
If you edit or publish a computer-oriented newsletter and you republish an 
issue of UFONY in your newsletter, please send a copy of the newsletter to 
Ultrarad Software, 13600 Gilbert St., #36, Garden Grove, CA  92644.
==============================================================================

                     ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ
                     Û                                    Û
                     Û  ì ë           ÷  ÷  ÷  ÷  í       Û
                     Û  � é  ì ë                          Û
                     Û  ê ê  ê ê  Alien Centerfold Issue  Û
                     Û                                    Û
                     ßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßß

     BUFOON is the world's largest scientifically-oriented UFO investigative 
organization.  [BUFOON, incidentally, is an apocrynym for Bureau of 
Unidentified Flying Objects Omni-(K)Nowledge.]  BUFOON has been investigating 
reports of UFO sightings, abductions, and other such eerie goings on since its 
founding in 1948.  BUFOON unashamedly supports the view that these things are 
actual physical crafts from the Great Beyond and that the US government has at 
least five of these crafts along with a score or more alien occupants made up 
of four different species of unearthly intelligent life and that since the 
first month of his presidency, if not before, Gerald R. Ford has been in 
charge of the massive cover-up promulgated by the CIA and the NSA and the 
LSMFT designed to make the people of America, who lust only after the truth, 
feel like a bunch of paranoid dupes.  Enough, President Ford!  Either answer 
the charges or shut up!  Why play out your evil charade when the game plan is 
fast unraveling for all of America to see?
     Recently Mil Pogboddle, BUFOON's public relations director, received a 
communique which damningly documents the reality of the crafts from the Great 
Beyond.  The communique is unique only in its great detail, but is otherwise 
representative of the eloquent and overwhelming testimony from an alarmed and 
outraged American public that challenges the skills of even BUFOON's crack 
investigative network on a daily basis.  UFONY is proud to reproduce the 
communique in its entirety in its first issue.


     Dear Mr. Pogboddle,

          I don't expect you'll be able to explain or believe what happen 
     to me and mine, but I am bound to set it down in my own words.  I 
     hope to get it right and detailed the first time and as true in my 
     heart as I know how, for Carl's condition is deteriorating and 
     Bradley, our eldest, ain't near in as bad a way but is none too good.
          I will say that I never touch liquor nor any kind of dope 
     either, only the Excedrin P.M. when my arthritis act up and also 
     digitalis when I'm suppose to.
          I done given serious thought to writing this to your missus 
     instead of you, Mr. Pogboddle, because I will take the womanly 
     attitude over a man any time.  This is no reflection on you or on my 
     own men, and I hope you will not take it wrong.  It is just how I've 
     come to feel at my age, with the years and all.  I am part Cherokee, 
     you know, and we are liable to feel that way I am told.  Still I am 
     writing to you after all as you are the "man in charge" and I do not 
     want to slight you.
          I am an honest woman of good intelligence, having an upholding 
     reputation where we live, which I value.  Carl would back me up every 
     bit, I assure you, were it not for his condition.  About Bradley I'm 
     not so sure as every since he was made kind of funny about it and my 
     honest view is that he don't like to even think about it.  He even 
     gets a tic on his left cheek from as you face him if you just act 
     like you're going to bring it up.
          This was when we was living in Goleta, which is right near Santa 
     Barbara.  It couldn't of been much more than a year ago, and my thought 
     is more like on the order of eight months.
          It was around seven or therabouts and we was on our way to Marty 
     and Jeanette's, relations on Carl's side.  They live in Santa Barbara 
     and still do.  We was in the '68 Plymouth which Carl just made a down 
     payment on, first real outing in it.
          Anyway the weather conditions were, so that part won't be in any 
     doubt, it was pretty overcast but not near total.  You know how I 
     mean, I'm sure.
          Right in front a cloud moved out of the way, up in the 
     atmosphere, and there it was clear as all get out.  It just hung 
     there, with no kind of maneuvers or anything.  It was a ghostly white 
     and shaped almost round, but with some of the round part invisible.  
     It was about the size of the moon in appearance, only maybe a fourth 
     bigger.  It like to scare me to death, just hoovering up there in the 
     distance, I can tell you!
          In a hush voice I says to Bradley, "Look at that thing!  It's 
     one of those things they sight!"
          Right there is where Bradley went funny like on me.  I don't 
     know if it was a beam or anything did something to his mind.  I will 
     say I didn't see no beam, though I been told they could have them 
     invisible.
          Anyway Bradley says, "It's only the moon, Ma."
          Now how could it a been the moon like that at the time?  To this 
     day I am convince the moon was only a thin curvy sliver not more than 
     a few days before, a week at most.  And what about the size?
          I up and grab Carl by the shoulder because I was excited and 
     afraid, let me tell you.  "What are we going to do?" I asked.
          I am honest in saying I was quite upset.  I know in my heart 
     that it would of made you feel the same.  It was plain frightening, 
     that thing.
          Well, what happens happens, like they say.  Carl lost ahold of 
     the steering wheel and we crashed into this here abutment at an 
     underpass, the concrete type like they mostly are nowadays.
          I was the lucky one, only broke my wrist and boogered up my face 
     some and got a few bruises and scratches.  My poor Carl had a 
     concussion and his insides hurt real bad with hemerging and all kinds 
     of things like that.  Dr. James says to expect the worst, even though 
     he's hung on a good spell.
          Bradley wasn't hurt too much worse than me, though like I say he 
     acts cranky and funny about the whole thing.  I just don't know if 
     you could get him to talk about it, the way he is.
          That is the God's truth of what happen, and may I fart 
     cockleburs (old earthy Cherokee expression) if it ain't.  I never did 
     use to believe in UFO's, but I just don't know any more.
          You can use my name if you want to, but I hope you won't go 
     overboard with this.  If you make it have too much prominence, like 
     basing a book on it or something, I would appreciate if you don't 
     give out our address.  What with the scare I got and it looking like 
     Carl going to pass on and Bradley like he is, I just don't think I 
     can handle any strain like having a lot of cranks bothering me about 
     the sighting.
          So that is the whole thing, and I didn't put in a word of 
     exaggeration or anything like that.  It is the God's truth, believe 
     me.
          I don't know what's going on, if we are being watched by beings 
     from in space or what.  All I know is what I saw, and it sure 
     convince me that something strange must be happening.  It give me a 
     new look on things, because I saw what I saw and nobody can tell me 
     different.

                                                         Very truly yours,

                                                         Hannah Selwyn

     P.S.  About a wooshing sound, if any, I just can't testify to that 
     for sure.  I seem to remember something like that, but upset like I 
     was it could of been the car moving along on the road.  I myself 
     don't think so, but going by how I was at the time, the excitement 
     and all, I don't know if it should be included.
          One more thing was the puppy, Stout Cortez, yapping away in the back 
     seat.  He got flung against the windshield when the car crashed and 
     unfortunately his neck got broke.


     We will have much more to say about the extraordinary experience of the 
unfortunate Selwyn family in the next issue of UFONY.  Suffice it to say for 
now that Mrs. Selwyn has undergone hypnotic age regression investigation and 
every detail of her communique has been confirmed.  The minutes of Mrs. 
Selwyn's age regression sessions have also uncovered astonishing facts that 
had been hidden deep in her subconscious: she was abducted by the beings 
aboard the interstellar craft and subjected to shocking physical examination!
     We regret that due to space limitations (v. Pierre de Fermat) we have 
been unable, after all, to include a centerfold of a truly mind-blowing alien 
woman bare from the gills down and ready to be transported.  We will include 
this holoshot next month--although SYSOP's who object to full frontal nudity 
among blue, methane-breathing, triple-breasted sweethearts from the Great 
Beyond are free, of course, to censor the centerfold at their sole discretion 
if their sensitivity so demands. 






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