I knew there was trouble ever since Greg met me at the door in that French maid outfit. He blushed, muttered something about “modeling servant kingship for my adoring wife” and hurried upstairs to change. The rest of my visit was uneventful, but I have the dim suspicion there was a story here.
Note to the humor-impaired: The above was a JOKE! It DID NOT HAPPEN! (I’ve learned that there’s a certain percentage of any large readership that will believe me when I write such goofy things and believe Peter Kreeft’s wild, tongue in cheek cock and bull stories of “out of body experiences while surfing.” Before you launch the whispering campaign against the Maximum Supreme Leader of the St. Blog’s Institute for the Criminally Insane (Note: both the title and the Institute are fictional), please remember this disclaimer.
Note: the fact that the title and Institute are fictional does not mean that Greg Popcak is fictional. Further, the fact that Greg is real does not mean that the French Maid Outfit fib is true. Just so we’re clear. If you have any questions, please direct all queries to Greg Popcak. He will not only be happy to explain everything, but to find some way to pay me back for all this.
Me: I’m waiting for Victor Lams, the inventor of “plogging” to invent his next character: the Pupcak! (Arf!)