About me:

What is this exactly? I should tell you about myself? There's a word for that. Deposition. Here's some other people I have to "tell about myself:" Internal Revenue. Police. And on my eleventh birthday, an eager-handed man in a dinosaur costume whose side my father took when I told the owner of the restaurant. After I tell you about myself, then what, then you know me? This is how you understand what someone else is about? Maybe you can't fit someone into a box of text. Let's explore that possibility. The human experience is wider than my class schedule and what high school I went to. Okay, I dropped out of high school so I could write the word "lies" on newspaper boxes. Moving up in the world, I started vandalizing billboards and made friends with a small group of anarchist billboard vandals, coordinating into a larger, more successful group, which then voted to kick me out because they were anarchists. Now they're an advertising firm and you can go on Facebook and see photos of their children, who have names like Hemingway and Chomsky and who are seated in the backs of SUVs. Joined the Peace Corps, did some foot modeling, got tear gassed at a world trade rally, went to Africa, woke up one day and realized I was almost thirty and flat broke. So... I got my G.E.D. and here I am: crawling back to society. High five yourself.