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"Why does it smell like poo here?"Those were my first words and the first lesson I learned growing up in the woods. You never talk to a man with a white beard and a crazy eye. Crazy Half-Knee is what we used to call him and I can still hear him when I go to sleep at night howling at the moon. He always said the moon was his enemy. I wonder if he's killed it yet.
I was later found by Boy Scout troop 890 when they were searching the hillside for a decent place to hide their stockpile of girl scout cookies. They told me they were going to build a research center and "take over" the door-to-door cookie market. They had a website ready and everything. I decided to help them out. Unfortunately, we were all really hungry and those cookies are no more...unless you count the trail of crap we left on the way down.
College was calling to me then and I found myself at Syracuse University where I learned how to get drunk, convince girls I was cute (at least for a couple of hours) and learned there is a limit to how much vodka you can put into a watermellon.
Now I roam the streets of broken promises and ill-fated choices in Phoenix where I write the wrongs during the day and champion a bocci league at night.