origins, pt. 1

Don't tell me...you're wondering what kind of degenerate keyboard-jockey socializes enough with the creators of this blog to be NEXT IN LINE for the proverbial passing of the baton. Well, you may want to read an excerpt from my semi-official biography written by my long-time biographer, Canadian Tuxedo, who started this blog 100 days ago as nothing more than an elaborate introduction to my reign as the author of slightly less than 40% of this blog for the next 100 days. It's a good place to start, but my biograbulter made a few mistakes, and I'd like to take a moment to rectify and verify the bio before moving forward with the following 98 days.

1.
"Poop Snacks was born in the wilds of Botswana to traveling gypsies named Kang and Kodos Snacks. Naming their son "Poop" was just the most recent of their many mistakes."

The name Poop Snacks actually refers to a popular joke from my childhood. It was 1949, I was walking down the local avenue, as was the style at the time, when I happened upon a group of mid to late teenagers, playing a game indigenous to my land called Skliibop-- an elegant hybrid of such popular American activities as Competitive Stretching, Parcheesi, and binge drinking. Needless to say, I sauntered past with hopes of making a friend or two (after all, not everyone was allowed to play Skliibop), when I caught the eye of the older boys folded into a perfect elevated side split. "Hey, Poop Snack" he yelled, to the uproar of his friends. He crossed his arms and smiled a dirty teenager smile of victory and it took all my wisdom and continence not to run up and kick that over-exposed groin of his. I strolled past as the name was chanted into history.

It wasn't until later that evening, as I tore into a family-size freezer bag full of monkey-doodie-nuggets (Teriyaki-style, OBVIOUSLY), that I got the joke. Distraught, my brilliant, sympathetic father, a local scientist and monkey farmer, advised me that the nutrients and nuanced flavors of monkey-doodie are not fully appreciated in our culture, neither by doctors nor food-bloggers, and may not be in our lifetime. "But", he said, wagging his finger, "this should not deter us. We are ahead of the bell-curve!" At this I chuckled. "YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY!?" he'd inquire, tenderly raising his fist to embrace me. I explained how a bell curve looks like a pile of doodie, and we both had a laugh. My father was a smart man.

I figured the children would let me be and my birth name would return, but as of this date, mostly due to my habit of accidentally introducing myself as Poop Snacks, Christophe Summary Winchester McCleaod remains in obscurity.

2.
"This will be his first foray into the world of the internet." (Incorrect).

Everything else shall be read as fact.