It is what the title says it is. The story of my life. While absolutely in no way whatsoever. It is what it is. What is that? I must admit, in writing this even I am getting confused. It is a representational autobiography, one defined as a passage through bizzarity until more bizzarity, until…Things going to hell from a very young age. Operative for the CIA at a very young age. A continuing passage from one set of odious and unpleasant circumstances to the next, each one worse than that before. A glimpse into the life of me, he with the least idiotic name in history, Xavier Cockroachal Damon.
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I have ten self-published books. Two are novels “Dawn” and the sarcastically entitled “What a Wonderful World”. This one. Three compilations of shorter works, chapters 2-6 of the fictitious autobiography entitled “Autobiography, Second Verse, For He Whom Life Forever Curse, and I Will Create Stars in an Empty Sky, Third of the Absurd, and the Mysteries That Follow, Entries Up to Six, Hanging From Your Crucifix”, “Love is What Will Make an Immortal Die, Climb From Hell, Motel Hell. 3 Stories” , “Cockroachalisms: Life Lessons Learned on My Journey Through Life, Gus Versus the Evil Gods, U Is All a Bunch of A-holes, Love an Ode to Valentine’s Day, and Hope (5 short works)”. The rest are plays “Dung A Play”, “Just One of Those Days (A Play)”, “Suicide Fanatics and The Amnesiac (Two Plays), and “Dog Years Within the Curse of 7. Two Plays, or Technically Would That Be 14 Plays?”