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> Bio > The Real Story |
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No one is sure why he did this since he actually had plenty of money from the family business. The only real physical problem dad had was a bum eye he got from winking too much. That was his story, anyway.
What was the "family business?" Apparently we ran a little hooch-making operation. The recipe was an ancient Appalachian Indian concoction that could cure anything, plus fuel your car.
People thought dad was a florist, but that was only a cover. There were huge boilers in the greenhouses where he "worked" supposedly used for heating. Not so. There was more than water being brewed in those babies. Some of the finest Appalachian Indian hooch flowed through the clanky "steam" pipes.
Like all babies do, I got bigger. They had a hard time stuffing me into my baby table thingy. My grandparents liked to use cake frosting to lube me up so I'd slide right in. I didn't mind. I liked cake. It felt good and the icing was delish!
Giddy up, fed! Dance for me! After awhile, I got tired of the family business and ran away to join the circus -- every little boy's dream! I got a job as a midget clown. My clown career really took off when they started shooting me out of a cannon. (Get it?) But the landings were hard and the noise hurt my ears. I decided it was time to move on after doing three shows a day for two weeks straight and lost my hearing for a month. My ears are still ringing, too! Seriously.
From then on I grew
up fairly normal, went on to junior and high school learning
legitimate and useful skills (for the most part). It was in high
school I discovered words and my knack for doing interesting
things with them. (A special thanks to R. Bobby Dicken for his
The sad thing in all
this? I wasn't cute anymore. I turned into a nerd. But at
least I was a legitimate nerd with our family's life of crime
nothing but a fading memory.
Cheers! Now, about that hair. Before "Napoleon Dynamite," there was ...
I think that'll do for now. |
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