About Me
[sigh]......well, it all started when I left the sunshine of Merritt Island, FL for the muddy waters of the MS gulf coast. Soon, the locals rebelled against me, and I was exiled upon a raft at the age of sixteen. I floated for days amongst the waves, finally coming to rest on a small island inhabited by two foot tall, humanoid creatures with blood red skin and a propensity for violent outbursts. Their leader, a scrawny female with two rows of crooked teeth and a smile that would make a reptile shiver, convinced them to steal my raft and kick me off their island with only a ratty orange lifejacket to support myself. I floated for yet more days, with the occasional shark bumping my feet, and little more than the sun and moon for conversation. After a span of time, I know not how long, a fishing boat happened upon me, and, the fishermen being rather nice fellows and myself having nothing better to do, I joined their crew and worked upon the sea, happily bringing in large nets of ocean life, which we sorted upon the deck, keeping what we wanted and casting the rest back to the waves. Once we reached port, it occured to me that I must now choose the road to which I would follow in the course of my days. Having tired of the sea, I ventured north, following dirt roads through towns with signs advising people not to let the sun set on them there, soon finding a seemingly quaint town amid the cotton country of north Mississippi. There I found lodging and employment; however, this was to be short lived. Having been raised on the eastern coast of Florida, I had developed skills of linguistical retort, not to mention some merit in arithmetic. This angered the local populace, whose vocal mannerisms tended toward the vernacular, and whose arithmetical computations were found more often lacking, rather than not. Without possessing the proper manners for the local horde, I was once again exiled by the masses amongst many torches and pitchforks, and sent west, along the desert route, to California. This was a long road, full of joshua trees, rattlesnakes, and the honorable horned toads, who quickly became my friends. I would relate my story to these horned toads, and, being so moved by my adventures, they would bleed from their very eyes in compassion. Arriving in California, tired and thirsty, I found haven with a young girl, whose hospitality was surpassed only by her impressions of jurassic era carnivores. Finding peace and contentment for some while, I struck out again for the open road, head hung low, as I knew I would never likely come to this country again. Returning to the Mississippi gulf coast, I found employ at one of the local resort casinos. My religious leanings preventing me from engaging in their monetary gain, I toiled at the theatre, instead. Long were the hours, and few the perks of the casino guild. I cursed my luck, and began putting together the finer points of my escape, when, to my own luck be praised, a large maelstrom engulfed the area, and, having found transit just prior to the terrible storm; I found myself once again in the cotton country to the north, narrowly escaping the horror that the storm wrought. There I stayed, laying low and changing my appearance often, so as to confuse and befuddle the locals, lest they realize my true identity, and resort to their petty lynchings and exile. For many months, I continued the charade, pretending to enjoy, even desire the town, but, in reality, I was only creating a facade of contentment, having given up on true peace of mind long ago. Now, I search only for adventure's glory, and the open road to bring myself to this end. As of yet, I have found neither to suit my desire.
