I’m an overweight, middle-aged underachiever. The skull tattoos on my arms complement my wardrobe, which I call rural proletarian. I sleep on the floor in a sparsely furnished apartment. I urinate frequently and pick my nose. I’m embarrassed that I own a Bible. After a tragic foray into Santeria, I’ve incurred crushing debt.
Can be summed up simply: brief digital, extended oral, premature genital. I have herpes.