I was born in a dumpster behind a 7-Eleven, baptized in a porta-potty, and raised on expired trail mix and spy pigeon lore. My hobbies include screaming at leaves and casual arson. I’m banned from the local park (long story involving a green frog and a flare gun), but that’s never stopped me from trespassing. The forest is unhinged, squirrels are strapped, and I live for the hustle.