Long time listener, first time caller.

In an attempt to document my life through prose, poetry, lyrical mayhem, tomfoolery, ballyhoo, and all that, I've moved on from my feeble home-based leather-bound attempts into a digital field that might just keep me honest. Of course, I also thought that buying a copy of Final Draft was gonna turn me into Christopher McQuarrie. In any case, it should be interesting to see my line of progression from dilettante to supreme master of the Doogie Howser computer journal sect. Plus I have tried unsuccessfully for years to keep it a secret that I have a huge ego, and now I can go back and read and re-read myself to my narcissistic heart's content.

The only negative affect is the temptation to remove the more embarassing vittles of my story through post editing, which is a fully available feature of this ingenious device we thoughtfully call "the web" (with little or no irony, considering how we first practiced to deceive). So I am going to make a promise here, which should be treated like that of an incumbant candidate. I know I'm trusted a little, and also expected to lie a little. In either case I'll do my best for complete discolsure and honesty to a fault. Hopefully anyone I know who dips into this shitstorm of words will still respect me in the morning.

Oh, and look for rhyme long before any reason enters into the picture.

James Francis Hunt
manic till death