I think I owe you an explantion. 

Why, during the broiling hot summer of 1994, I stole a car and left town for a month with an alien boy named Baby, an angry chicken, and Adam Kavinsky in the back seat.

I started writing this all down because I saw my face on the front page of The Sun and USA Today while standing at the front counter of a gas station buying cigarettes. Adam and Baby were waiting for me in the car.

I took the time to read about what people said about me.

I read the awful shit they said about Adam Kavinsky and the theories they came up with, like that maybe he was an FBI agent in disguise, or had ties to the mafia and banged the Lochness Monster.

You're probably wondering, "Who the hell is Adam Kavinsky, and why should I care?" But he was just as important to this story as Baby and his chicken were, even if I didn't realize it at the time.

I'm not very good at writing shit, and I didn't have access to anything but hotel room menus and gas station receipts for those few months I was gone, and that's probably a good thing because some memories shouldn't be brought back. There were things that I hadn't told anyone about that would stay with me forever.

So this is how it all goes down.