My name is Chris. When I was seven years old I fell deep into a pit, in which grew a blackberry bramble. I lay there ensnared by torturous/hilarious pain for quite some time. I thought about it: if I could even get myself untangled from this mess, I would still have the pit to climb up and out of, and in doing that I would very likely tear my dainty little boy hands to shreds. So, I decided, "fuck it." And that's a fantastic metaphor for the rest of my life. My name is Chris and my Gramps eventually found me.