Why, you ask?
Because Boy-Blunder—pictured (unmasked) below— snapped this picture while I was sitting in the Batmobile—sans my secret identity.
Alright, that wasn’t the only reason for all the howls of laughter. I also attempted to bribe my girls with Bit-coin (just about the most valuable currency on the whole planet) into writing this bio for me.
Of course, I took their laughter to mean that they’d rather I write my own pack of lies.
So I did.
Let me begin by saying that there was a time when I had hoped to have a brush with fame. This will likely not come as much of a shock to most of you as you’ve probably never read this “about” page before.
But, I eventually came to the conclusion that any FUTURE searches for a brush with fame would likely require my having to explore hardware and antique stores—with the use of a modified DeLorean capable of time travel.
That’s when I realized my search for a FAMOUS BRUSH (and the ludicrous part of my bio) had come to an end—as I had previously sold my DeLorean to some old guy with wild looking white hair going by the name of…Doc.
So, I had to find a new waste of time, thus this completely absurd but remarkably silly blog.
This is likely the worst blog anyone will ever come across.
Therefore, I was determined not to publicize it. Which might explain why you’ve never seen any annoying ads for my blog interrupting your videos on YouTube or plastered all over billboards along a freeway.
Also, the fact that I didn’t wish to spend thousands of dollars on promoting my blog may have had a little to do with it as well.
Now I’d always felt—from age five on—that one day I might realize my dream of total anonymity…
By creating a blog on WordPress.
Originally I thought about doing a personal journal. But, then lightening struck and (aside from the smell of some burnt flesh and the need for some new clothes) I decided I could probably accomplish the exact same thing by doing a blog instead—WITH POSSIBLY EVEN FEWER READERS!
(It’s here I feel compelled to write the following disclaimer.)
In this blog (if you are a member of the grammar police) you will find bad grammer (hee hee), pour puntuation (ha ha), and dreadful speling. You’re welcome, grammar police.
Meaning, you’ll likely require a translator when reading any of my posts—seeing as I’m quite the expert in writing the incomprehensible.
So feel free to bring a translator: it’ll add to my stats—say nothing of my ego.
Influences? I’ve had many … just never on anyone else. I include this fact to spare you anxiety over your reading any further—in case you’re addicted to any Benzodiazepines.
The following detail might reveal more than you wish to know about me, but I’m going to risk it—just for you.
I’M A LEO!
WELL I GUESS THE CATS OUT OF THE BAG NOW, so I might as well come clean and tell you the rest of the story.
I own a smart phone, a tablet, and yes…a television—complete with remote!
I’ll pause for a moment to let you recover from that last revelation.
You want more? No, no I don’t mind, besides, you’re bound to find out anyway—’cause I’m going to type it now. One day my youngest said, that the remote didn’t belong to me. Can you believe it? Then he went on to say that he wanted it back or he’d call mom.
I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that mom also happens to be my wife—like that would carry any weight given my hopeless situation at that particular moment.
See, I always felt possession was 99.9% of the law. That is until my wife told me to give the remote back to him or I’d not have a leg (legal or otherwise) to stand on when she got home—I suspect she meant that literally. Amazingly, I’ve since found that my wife is right 99.9% of the time!
Psst, wanna know a secret? Okay, I’ll tell you anyway.
I’ve heard it said, that if you keep one finger over the delete button on your keyboard—you know the one I’m talking about—that you can actually maintain peace and harmony in your house.
Of course, I’ve never had to put that to the test yet because I suspect my family feels if I ever did … POOF… they’d all be gone in a flash drive accident.
I wouldn’t bet on it though. I hate being responsible for my friends losing money—’cause they usually want it back.
Oh, please be advised: don’t try this delete button thing at home as results may vary. In any case, this measure should never be attempted by a wife—the delete button is only husband approved.
The preceding was a public service announcement.
Well that’s my bio. Best work of fiction, balderdash, and poppycock I’ve ever written, and it reads like a bad novel don’t you think? Feel free not to answer that question.
Nevertheless, you are all welcomed here “In My Cluttered Attic” anytime. I’m gratified you—or anyone for that matter—had the courage to venture this far.
I should probably mention there’s no financial reward for the five minutes you just lost reading this rather flimsy bio.
But, I want you to know your reading it and any comments you might share below (a noble sacrifice on your part to be sure) will be duly noted in “The Attic” book of history…
When I finally get around to creating one. 😀