"oh my god... where have i clicked now?" alan's wacky weird web This place is constructed purely of H T M L with no clunky frames; no <blinkin'> no flashin' GIF89a, no scrollin' java doodads... hell, not even a stinkin' GIF. That's it. Well, at least for the first page. It's anarchy from here down. Beware of the maniac on the loose. Well, actually there is one GIF; you just cannot see it. So who would really want to learn more about me? There is more than you ever want to know. My photo. My bicycle. My fingerprint. My credit card numbers (now you gotta click, eh? just itching to click? how can you not click?) I have written werds mostly meaningless junk. Go ahead, mingle among the single digit hit areas of my web. Travel with me. Hike in my boots. Laugh out loud. Go click somewhere else. See if I care. There's a reason I've yet to be published in a major literary journal or monkey face on a putrid pink cover or WiReD. Besides, print media are the complacent dinosaurs at 5 minutes before the end of the Cretaceous Age. And gawk at my fotos-- I have a camera. I have a scanner. ("I scan, therefore I am.") showing that, oh yes, I seek spectacular remoteness. I bring them to you, all in the comfort of your web browser. How about some grafix leftovers-- I make lots of pix on the computer. Some people actually enjoy looking at them. Or at least they do not walk away snickering and giggling. Here is what I do at würk. Do you wonder why they pay me money for doing this stuff? And a QUOTE-UNQUOTE e-resumé if you insist. make me an offer, but make it un-refu$able. And yet even more junk that i also make on the computer. If you have not figured it out, the style here is a high flattery imitation of Dave Siegel's techniques.