Some three hundred and fifty years ago I was born in the state of confusion. I was disowned at the delicate early age of 47 by my family and sent to be raised by wolves. When the wolves weren't very receptive, I took what was left of my left leg and joined the circus in hopes of becoming the mysterious, bearded lady. When they found out that I was a man, and that I couldn't grow facial hair I was instantly terminated.

After spending my entire life savings on booze, and an over weight stripper's college tuition, I decided to become a gypsie. That didn't work out.

As for now, I continue to stock pile weapons, bottled water, and canned sardines for an inevitable zombie apocolypse that I've been waiting on for quite some time now. Until that happens I'll continue to study films about con-artists and attempt to become a lawyer.

• Home
• Friends