Okay, starting this. Just recently moved to Los Angeles. Lived here some
time ago, back when the Northridge Earthquake happened. That was nifty. I
hate LA, but it's been hard finding work since spending ten years in rehab
(alcohol), so I take what I can get, and this job required me to move
here.
About the rehab. Yeah, ten years. I'm Indian (American, or as we say,
feathers, not dots). I know it's a terrible stereotype, but there is some
truth in the "drunk Indian" thing. I've heard some people say we are
missing some enzyme that metabolizes alcohol, or something like that.
Whatever the reason, I'm an alcoholic, so I stopped drinking in 1999 (when
I went into court-ordered rehab).
I'm also adopted. I located my birth family on my mother's side, and they
are all golden. I recently located my birth family on my father's side,
the Indian side. My father died in prison from... you guessed it:
alcoholism (and drugs). That side of the family doesn't want to talk to me.
So, here I am in this shithole called Los Angeles, working for kind of a
shithole company doing web design.
Oh, I should mention that I'm also gay and have a filthy mouth.
And, I'm an ordained monk. I've written four books, all published, under
the name James Bishop. It's not my real name, but authors tend to do that.
You know, make shit up. I know. Potty mouth. Especially for a monk.
