Love books, movies, chainmail armor, Photoshop, and Sherlock Holmes.
What I write is not humor, but I hope to make you laugh every once in a while--and maybe sleep with the light on for a couple of months.
My sordid past includes...
I was born in Smithville, Missouri.
In 1974, when I was three, my family moved from Kansas City to the Ozarks of southern Missouri.
Adjacent to the Mark Twain National Forest, our 100-acre farm grew maples, strawberries, and snakes. (The snakes outnumbered the other two by about 17 to 1.) Growing up, I often carried my pet chicken under my arm, because all chickens love tricycle rides. At 15, I moved with my parents to a small mining town in Oklahoma. It is now a massively polluted ghost town. (I doubt our move there had anything to do with it.) What the government has not hauled away, tornadoes erased. I have lived in the general area since.
My wife and I met at Wal-Mart. She told me my watch was ugly. I proposed to her a week later.
My son is awesome. I taught him to play Magic: The Gathering, and I have NEVER won a game against him.
I've been a lone night clerk at a convenience store, a janitor, a nursing tech at a mental health facility, a consignment auction lackey, furniture assembler, graphic designer, retail department manager, unpaid farmhand, and a ditch digger for a septic tank company.
After college, I worked six years for a Native American casino as both the IT manager and director of marketing (yes, at the same time). After that, for a couple of years, I returned to my alma mater, but this time to write programs, maintain databases, and threaten to chuck troublesome servers out a third-story window. (The same went for troublesome coworkers.) They fed me cookies occasionally and asked only that I stop submitting uniform requests for a t-shirt with the word "Staff" scratched out and replaced with "Minion."
