This will be the only time that any of you will ever see me topless.


Trust me, this is a glorious thing. Gravity hasn’t been good to me.

I wasn’t big on naps. (I suppose that most kids aren’t.) I yelled and screamed, fighting it with every inch of my chubby frame.

One time I started to bellow “help me!” so loudly that one of the neighbors called the fuzz and a cop came to the door. My mom had to take him upstairs to prove that I was fine, just a fucking little brat.

I even wrote notes once I got older, according to my mom. (I called her to verify that this is all true.)

“Help me!!”

“I’m captive!”

Then I would slip them out of my bedroom window.

I was a resourceful little turd, wasn’t I?

My parents would find these little scraps of paper in the front yard, crayon scrawled and probably misspelled.

“Wow, I was nuts from the get-go,” I said to my mom over the phone.

“You were a pain in the ass,” she replied with love.

Still am.