Why does he call himself ALF if that's not actually his name?

Why does he call himself ALF if that's not actually his name?

ALIEN FUCKING LIFE FORM FAGGOT

He uses his real name every time he calls somewhere.
He treats Alf like own nickname. Like because "Gordon" is too hard for americans to pronaunce.

>AFLFF
?

aflff?

Doesn't he mostly call himself "the old alfer" when using that nickname at all

Ayyyy
Lmao
For you

A.lien
L.ife
F.orm

I'm pretty sure it's ALPH not ALF.

Willie was a beta cuck who let a cat eating Chad from space pork his wife and daughter and eat all his food
really it was a show ahead of its time

The audience hears "Gordon Shumway" as his name, but ALF is actually speaking unintelligible extraterrestrial gibberish.

The Tanners understand him a little due to his alien magic, but can't pronounce his actual ET name, so they just call him ALF.

he's a small guy

>he's an alien...
>let's call him Al
>let me finish. he's an alien life form
>holy shit let's call him Alf

Reminder the dad from ALF turned out to be a gay crackhead that sucks homeless guys off for crack rocks.

There's a funny story about him in the comments on his imdb page, which I've posted here before. Anyone want me to post it again?

Yes pls.

That is the least surprising scandal of all time

NO
fuck you

>I have this funny story about Max I like to tell. Now, before I tell it I must confess that the tale in question is not mine. It was told to me by somebody else. I usually treat celebrity stories like Trucker's Tales. Meaning I take them with a grain of salt. However, given that Max isn't that well known of a character actor to most people. And given that the gist of the story fits well with Max's history I see no reason to doubt this particular tale. So retell it I shall.

>OK, about 14 years ago I was renting a room at a boarding house in Hemet, CA. Down the hall from me was a very nice lady named Kathia. She had this boyfriend named Joe, also a nice fellow but a bit of a drinker. As these were the days when I was also a practicing alcoholic I got to be friendly with Joe. One payday, while tipping back more than a few Joe asks me in this casual way if I, since I was and am such a movie buff, had ever heard of Max Wright. "Max Wright?", I asked. "Sure I know Max. He was Willie on ALF."

>"I've met him." Joe confided.

>"Really?", I asked, now interested.

>So, Joe proceeds to tell me this story about how, a couple of years before, he had run afoul of the law in LA County over an alcohol-related event. As part of his punishment and probation the courts mandated that he attend a certain number of AA meetings. So one day he hits up this meeting in Culver City, again while imbibed, and during the meeting in staggers this rather well-dressed, thin, bespectacled fellow, obviously drunk himself as well. The man sat down next to Joe and during the meeting, after figuring out they were both drunk, they began chatting. The man introduced himself as Max. Eventually Joe and Max came to the conclusion that the 12-Steps were as boring as watching paint dry and two smart fellers like them could find something much more exciting to do to while around the day.

Gordon Shumway. His name is Gordon Shumway.

>Somehow they get it in their booze soaked brains that the ballgame is the ticket and the two of them set course for Dodger Stadium. During this alcohol fueled adventure Joe learned a few things from the familiar looking Max. Number one that he was an actor and had been one for some time. He'd done TV and film work and had made a very good living at it. (Joe said he got the ALF connection then, but downplayed it as he was afraid to upset Max and end all the free beer he was buying.) He said alcohol wasn't his only 'demon' but he'd gotten the others under control, more or less. He also mentioned he was married and had grown kids.

>After the game Max and Joe went to eat and drink some more, exchanged numbers and vowed to take the town by storm again soon. Well, Max never called Joe and Joe lost Max's number long before his ship finally settled in home port the next day.

>A couple of months pass by, and as Fates would have it Joe ended up hitting a meeting at the same Culver City AA, (this time as sober as a Monday-morning Judge), and who should be there but his old buddy Max!(Ditto sobriety for Max.) Grinning, Joe takes a seat next to Max and re-introduces himself and questioned Max as to why he never called him. Max looked at Joe with this confused and quizzical look and flat out asked, "And who are you?". So Joe took the opportunity to remind him that he was the guy he took to the ballgame earlier. Max thought for a second, then looked at Joe with same expression and asked, "Was I drunk?". To which Joe responded, "Yeah, you were pretty hammered." So Max gets this flustered looked and says, "That explains it...I'm sorry." Joe said not to apologize because he did have fun. And during and for a bit after the meeting he and Max chit-chatted again. He did say Max was not as friendly, more cordial that time around. He also seemed embarrassed. Being an alcoholic in recovery myself I know all to well that dissociated feeling when you re-meet your "New Best Friend" after a black-out bender. It does take on a Twilight Zone aspect no matter if it's your first or fiftieth one. So I can understand Max's behavior and so did Joe. As I recall Max left Joe with the classic "We'll do lunch." after the next meeting but Joe never saw him there again.

>So every time I think of Max or see him in something I always remember this story told to me one evening over cheap beer and boredom. And every time it makes me think that all the other stories, (and videos), might not be so far off at that. But then it also reminds me of my own demons and what it took to put them in bed. Glass houses and all that.

>You're a great actor, Max. Hang in there buddy! Remember, one day at a time...

>And then they met up again and raped a dozen young men at Bryan Singer's house during a poz party.

What a boring, uneventful story

Can confirm, had my neg hole poz'd by ALF at a similar party a week later.

It's ALF, from Alfredo, he's not extraterrestrial, he's a mexican immigrant, search your feelings, you know it's true

How do you know he's not Italian?

Because Italians don't eat cats, Mexicans do.

I can't argue with this.

Tabby cats are specially delicious since they are all females. Dont ever eat mexican food friend!