I can do all sorts of things with words. And I'm good with my hands. If I were an elite athlete, you wouldn't be able to stop me; at best you could only hope to contain me. Were I a pillow, both sides of me would be cool. All the time. I bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and then I eat it because that's what you do with bacon. I want to embrace this writing disease, and live happily ever tomorrow.