Well where do i start, i was born in the great town of Pullman, Washington. My father was a genius and he took Pullman by storm. He was full of ideas, and he put them to good use. We had a special time in our lives and that was what we called "Power Hour". This was a time where we had our family come and get drunk. My life was full of joy, comedy, sex, rock n roll, and drunkenness. My father believed in a fun and prosperous life, and he shared these thoughts with many of our family members. Every night was a new experience and i can not thank my father enough. He was a great mentor, friend, and father. I was his baby, his bread and butter. Then it came to an end, when a mormon came to town and this guy who shall remain nameless, thought of me as the devil. My father kept fighting this asshole telling them i am not the devil. Toward the end of my life i was not dissappointed, because i accomplished a great list of things and my family did not let me down, even though they knew i was going to be gone soon, they kept partying and partying. i would not have wanted it any other way. Now my tombstone readsR.I.P
SHAKERS
1990-2005
"One Foot in the Grave,
The other foot on the pedal."
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