I was born in a brothel in a town which now no longer exists. When I was born, my mother mistook the afterbirth as my twin. And the cuter one, too, apparently, as I was immediately sold to the cleaning woman for a stamp. The cleaning woman, who went by the name of Magda, lived out at the edge of town in an abandoned freezer with a bum named Lucky. Magda and Lucky used to fight over whose turn it was to beat me. So to distract myself from the misery of my surroundings, I began to draw. And I drew whatever I could get my hands on - flattened Kleenex boxes, tin cans, fruit... but nothing fresh. I never had a piece of fresh fruit until I was twenty-one, and it was a lime. I still take the existence of peaches on hearsay. I was kicked out of the freezer when I reached puberty, so I hit the open road in search of fame and fortune. For the next ten years I wandered, sorta like that German Shepherd, Hobo, except I don't lick strangers' faces unless I'm fucking them.