M.C. Lavocat
I really hate writing a bio, they always sound so lame. Also, I have to admit that I have lost respect for some authors after reading their bios…seriously, if you’re going to wave the dork flag so proudly, you have to expect a little fallout.
So, without further ado, here is my bio…with flair.
I am the 264 year old surrogate mother to a flock of seagulls, an actual flock of birds, not the new wave band from the 80′s. I joined a travelling carnival at the age of eleven, successfully disguising my gender, and serving as an apprentice to the strongman. When my pectoral muscles began to develop at a faster rate than my biceps, I ran away to join with a group of nomadic fortune tellers.
After a few years of living the nomadic lifestyle, I grew tired of the constant travel and decided it was time to move on…which is a bit ironic I suppose.
At that point, I hacked into the department of student services to enroll myself at the Wharton School of Business. Naturally, I awarded myself a full fellowship as well as a stipend for living expenses. I completed the MBA/JD Program at the top of my class in only one year.
After graduating, I took the next seven years off to tour the world in a hot air balloon with six baboons and two llamas. As a side note: baboons and llamas do NOT get along.
I ended my balloon trip in Canada where I was accepted into the Royal Canadian Mountie training program in Saskatchewan. However, I quit the program shortly after beginning because I looked like a complete tool in the uniform. I got my happy ass out of Canada and headed back to the United States.
I moved from state to state, having an exact replica of each tattooed on the bottom of my foot before moving on to the next. Finally, I ended up in the glorious state of Louisiana where I met the man of my dreams and settled down in da bayou to build a nest and raise the best damn flock of seagulls the world would ever know.
Oh, and I wrote a book too.
“For a split second, I wondered if he were some type of sexy sorcerer, who was able to remove my clothing by the force of his will alone. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on the buttons of his shirt, willing them to pop off. It didn’t work. Then again, it was pretty hard to focus while he was touching me, so maybe under different circumstances, I too could be a sexy sorcerer. Watch out world.”
“Dude! Get a fucking grip, it's just a song! When had I turned into a 5-yr-old girl? At the very least, I needed to get my libido under control before the song finished, because I didn’t think that my raging hard-on would be a good icebreaker. Well, figuratively speaking anyway, I thought smugly.”
“I was momentarily stunned by his odd announcement and told him as much. "Let’s just talk about the fact that you composed a sonnet to my vagina, shall we? You are sending off some major stalker vibes, which is odd because you’re gay. You are gay, right?" He narrowed his eyes at me and waved his hand in the direction of his 'muse' as he stated, "I don't want any part of that thing. I just want to honor it for being the only known thing in existence to be touched by the dick of a god.”