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About me

Introduction	Felicitations, friends. I come to you with the unfamiliar ire of the tax-paying persecuted. I, who once gave nary a care to the destination of my precious tax centimes, trusting, as was my wont, the noble intentions of those blessed with the political genius necessary to attain public office. Perhaps I should take up where I left off. If you have been following along then you are already aware that I, the executive editor of the Belverton University Press, have been writing a fictive work — an alibi, if you will — to tell my wife, Dr. Wharton-Stone, in the event of her discovering a long-awaited and painfully-deferred tryst of the usual trysting nature between myself and Belverton University's Dean of Intercourse, the ravishing Racine. I have been mentored in the crafting of my alibi by Mike, a former New York City literary agent and current barista at my favorite Starbucks. My alibi had been polished to a squint

Introduction

Felicitations, friends. I come to you with the unfamiliar ire of the tax-paying persecuted. I, who once gave nary a care to the destination of my precious tax centimes, trusting, as was my wont, the noble intentions of those blessed with the political genius necessary to attain public office. Perhaps I should take up where I left off. If you have been following along then you are already aware that I, the executive editor of the Belverton University Press, have been writing a fictive work — an alibi, if you will — to tell my wife, Dr. Wharton-Stone, in the event of her discovering a long-awaited and painfully-deferred tryst of the usual trysting nature between myself and Belverton University's Dean of Intercourse, the ravishing Racine. I have been mentored in the crafting of my alibi by Mike, a former New York City literary agent and current barista at my favorite Starbucks. My alibi had been polished to a squint