FICTIONAL BIO:

The missus asked me

(hitherto known as her bozo)

just mere moments ago

to craft humorous poem to glow

nsync with the shiny nose of Rudolph

keeping syncopated metrical flow

thus methought to crow
about being equally as foolish

streaking naked outside at five below

so without further here I go

rattling off gibberish as common Joe

King cole, a merry old soul...

dirt poor, hence without any dough

to embellish endeavor as literary pro,

who also sought to catch eye of Mister Perdue

(yea him of agribusiness fame)

to sacrifice self for New Year's barbecue.

Yours truly repurposed courtesy rigged

easy to assemble cannibalistic spit

with large fig leaf covering puny naughty bit

meekly (née willingly) surrendered

matter of fact, I paid with bitcoin chit

recognized latest currency

ever since legal tender easily susceptible

and oftimes confused as counterfeit

money forged, smelted, and hammered

linkedin with pendulum that swung within pit.

Thus analogous to

Five Chinese brothers immune

yours truly constituted

more'n one secret boon

such fiery flames (hot enough

to melt like molten rock)

could harm not a hair

of one Homo sapien baboon

matter fact simian in question

could become swell

think hot air balloon

allowing, enabling and

providing me quick escape

national anthem playing

as most popular tune,

a capella, I simultaneous croon

as hot embers snap, pop, and crackle

token human crisply cooking

taking place at high noon

despite the most ferocious typhoon,

no worry, I defy being drowned

survival skills inherited

sophisticated quirky protozoa

symbiotic eukaryotes

since time immemorial

livingsocial within tight quarters

with not mushroom

to maneuver - oh... hold on,

cuz I will be done lame

reasonable rhyme really soon

ah... just about done

getting cooked the color maroon.

As will be accurately surmised, yours truly trends toward being atypical, basically comical dude, ethically fantastical, generally hemispherically intact, jokingly kooky, linguistically minded, nonestablishmentarian, opportunistic, poetic, quintessentially righteous, sartorially tacky, unpretentiously voluble, wittily xyst, yearningly zestful.

A written account (that incorporates some self directed hyperbole) of this veritable stranger now appears before your screen. Soon after reading this message, the neighbors might discern a blood curdling series of (hyena-like) shrieking screams. No worry. That would just be the mating call of the hairy Harris mama bear.

Ready! Set! Click!

A scary reflection greets me whenever I summon up enough steely courage to take a sneak peek into the mirror. Before the spider lines start to appear across the shiny surface and subsequent cracks and fissures dissolve the glassy surface these deux hazel colored, myopic bespectacled eyes quickly absorb a most frightful countenance and visage.

That near legendary and trademark feature of longish, wavy and brown straggly hair seems to fill the entire view. Hidden among that avant garde rhapsodic bohemian, Cro-Magnon, Neolithic, non-every-man style of un-styled locks (interspersed with silver follicles indicative of acquired worry per fighting off that garden variety prehistoric creature) can be discerned a brutish, nasty and short proto-human with a high forehead, which allows, enables and provides more skin surface to bang against the wall when frustrated.

My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck (I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped (fried or scrambled some might argue) head.

A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine. Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the sole vice, which exotic brews provide that helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on the cup to keep these teeth sharp.

Now to that locale known as the rump. Although the unseen forces of biology and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny tushy (which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt and tease) such anatomical feature offers little value as the worthiness of sexual prowess. This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit.

Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck. This tiny tushy accompanied by a vestigial and teeny-weensy Weiner schnitzel of a phallus, which undersized cock a doodle do bulges into an erectile state within shooting distance of that coveted warm, wet and wooly private world property of each and every woman.

A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in a adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.

Does this suffice? After attempting to envision some vague essential apparition or near facsimile of what barely passes muster as a Caucasian male, I wonder if you happen to be less or more favorably disposed toward some healthy interaction of body, mind and spirit.

If not yourself, I wonder if you know if any local cave woman close to unit B44? Maybe great ape as yourself to make grunting noises with me?

Now if you would politely excuse me, I MUST scavenge for some berries, exotic tree bark or that stray small and wild game.

Contact me via banging rocks together asap.