Hey, fruity. What's crack-a-lackin?

The creator of this web site considers himself a larva that tends to inch away from things that are very loud and towards things that are very shiny and sparkly. Spending the majority of his slack-time yelling at the shoes of complete strangers, nervously eyeing his computer, berating his goldfish, O2, for it's lack of intelligence and common sense, feeding cheetos to the pigeons down at the park, breathing through his mouth, and lying to bored housewives in Idaho about the girth and length of what he, euphemistically, refers to as his "freedom". His ultimate goal in life is to "live until I am, at least, 150 and then get hung for rape."

He does not play well with others, he doesn't know you, you don't know him, he has no idea what you are talking about, he was at his mom's house, his keyboard was broken, it must have been someone that looks like him, he was framed and the big kids made him do it.

His grip on reality is tenuous, to say the least, and he is under 24/7 surveillance by the planet's leading anthropologists many of whom consider him the missing link, the last of the real cavemen.

Because, he has A.A.D.D. (the adult version of that...um...what? where am I?) his current personal projects list includes: the writing of a second script, taking close-up pictures of stuff on the ground, acting in a play before an audience of scary-looking people, tricking girls into bed, letting his hair grow out, studying LINUX, networking and the reading of very heavy books that he, naively, believes will someday, prepare him for life as an adult.

He lives in the Los Angeles area, where he is affectionately known as one of the most hated men in show business, and he can't wait to meet you in real life.

Click here to e-mail bomb him
here's his key(attached .txt files only, please)
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