I was born in a foreign land, moved to Houston, moved back to a different foreign land, moved back to Houston, then moved North. Still in Texas though. What more can be said? You said it, he said it, she said it, we said it, they said it - "THEY?" - Yes, the Russians said it.Did you think you were going to read something interesting about me? I'm not much for creative biographies. Walking the boulevard of broken dreams with James Dean and Green Day. Unless you consider that I was born inside the gas tank of a B-1 Bomber, I was raised by a pack of she-wolves, and dated Vampirella for a while. Who dropped acid? They better pick it up! I drag raced down Hell Highway against The Zombies (and lost) and punched a hole through a piston with a speck of sand.
Mmmmm. Guacamole.
F-F-F-Foolin'. Da-da-dadadah! F-F-F-Fooooolin'.
After that, Jayne Mansfield's corpse hunted me down and spanked me (trust me, when it happens to you, you can't do a damn thing about it). Devil girls riding chrome rockets on a purple sky with stars blazing. Peyote at dusk with guitarslingers gunning each other down in a sleepy desert town. Bewaaaare the mYsTiC eYe!! Poker in the front, liquor in the rear, spade flush and double gut shot draw. Poker is an art. And war. Espresso beans make me itch in a good way. I play the geetar. Not as well as I'd like, 'bout better than most people think I would.
I guess that's it. Except,
I see dead people
and
ASP stings hurt like a kick in the balls.
This message may self destruct. Head for the Hills!
