Sentient bear sometimes a writer, from the bygone era of the 80's and I have no idea what I'm doing here. Reading, writing, editing, crying over my student loan debt, editing, reading, writing, that's my life.

Is anyone actually reading this?

I write random shenanigans (or 'randanigans' if you will) and can type things up more absurd than an episode of Bojack Horseman at times. Also, my pen name is not, and I repeat with emphasis, and not, a mashup of J. D. Salinger and Mark Hamill.

Seriously.