A word about the author

D.Tkon:

Thinks Farts and anything to do with them are the funniest things in the world.

Needs professional help on a regular basis.

Doesn’t want to cause anyone pain, but will laugh his ass off if you hurt yourself.

Owns every SpongeBob DVD and saw the movie.

Fired his family of origin years ago at the behest of his brilliant therapist and now works alone and likes it that way.

Took a crap on the side of a major highway in broad-daylight because the alternative was worse (and laughed like a mental patient for the next hour).

Wants the following to happen when he dies: Wrap him in a plain white shroud (no clothes) and burry him in a plain wood box (no nails, no hinges, no pillow). Place his entire Calvin and Hobbs comic book collection in the box with him. At the funeral, play Mozart’s Requiem Mass (Choral Arr.) as loud as tolerable. No eulogy. Crying optional.

Believes he hears the voice of God Almighty between and among the notes of some of the most outstanding musical compositions ever penned and weeps unabashedly while listening to this music by himself.

Is confused, because sometimes he cries when he listens to shitty music as well and doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

Wishes he was a poet all of the time, not just when nobody is looking.

Loves cats, likes dogs, hates fish, unless fried or grilled with a little lemon and dill.

Never wants to go back.

Has only one true dear friend and is content with that.