People are always asking me "TaTer...is that your real name?" Well grab a seat and a cup of hot understanding because I'm about to blow your morals!
Yes, my real name is TaTer and I love you! I was born in a tent under a grape tree in the fall of the year of the pig. My parents were smelly people...hippies...carnies without rides. They took me from place to place, sunk inside a leather papoose that was given to them by another smelly hippy. Eventually, once the high wore off...they decided to name me "TaTer" because they loved...potatos? I was three years old and i finally had a name! It was an exciting day...though i didn't understand why my parent's would name me tater, I would have little time to figure out why as shortly thereafter they left me near a pinapple during a pillow race near the Peaks of Otter. They forgot about me and I thought all was lost until a pack of wild dogs scooped me into their pack. These were no normal animals...they had microphones attachted to them...they spoke like the "micro machines" guy and had an uncanny knowledge of music. It didn't take me long to realize that I had been inducted into some strange pack of dogs that were obsessed with radio...On some nights they would howl call letters of a radio station id never heard of..."K RINDEY TOOOOOOOOOOOO" One day...it hit me, K92...they needed in. -To Be Continued
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