Looking at the cursor blinking against a blank screen I realize how hard it is to write something clever about myself. Where to start and what to say. Harsh words run through my mind as that cursor continues to blink; not moving. Are you kidding me? Just type something; you can change it later. Damn the pressure; ridiculous.
Dang it’s getting hot in my living room. My fingers are swollen like charred oak and I can barely type without hitting multiple keys; nervous to do a good job. Just say something! Um yeah, it’s still blinking; not moving.
OK, fine. Here we go. This is it. You ready?
I drink straight whiskey, I smoke unfiltered cigarettes, I’m haunted by a ghost and I have a lot of tattoos. Now you know.