I’m not exactly sure what the hell anyone is expecting to find here–I mean, besides a bio. Obviously. This is my website. I made it. I know what this is supposed to be. I just don’t “get it”.
But I mean, there’s a good chance you clicked here because you have no idea who the hell I am or if you should even care (spoiler: you shouldn’t). Sure, you might be someone who already knows who I am and you’ve come here in the hope of seeing what sort of fluff piece I’ve written for myself. But that’s just not the sort of guy I am, which is something you’d already know if you really did know me. So should you belong to that second set of people, shame on you, you judgmental ass.
That said, if you really are curious about the sort of guy who would self-apply “amoral crackpot”, I don’t know what to tell you. I was born and raised (and continue to live in) Southern California. I deal with what might otherwise be crippling anxiety with what I desperately need to believe is humor. I think about and write (to little success) about some really twisted and/or depressing shit whenever I’m not writing and/or talking about utterly useless shit. And I haven’t held down a steady, paying gig in a very long time.
And why might that be, you ask? Well, aside from an innate desire to live down to peoples’ already low expectations of millennials, my last job nearly drove me insane. That is to say, it nearly had me driving my car into the center divider just to see what would or wouldn’t come next (and, no, I’m not joking, though I really wish I was). I swore that I’d never willingly allow myself to be forced into another corporate stooge role–or any job where pants are mandatory, really. And, dammit, I’ve managed to succeed in at least that if nothing else.
I’m not well, is what you should probably gather from all this.