michael davis

I was born with a TT jack in my hand and enough loose components in my hair to build a crystal radio. From an early age I have perceived the world around me as mono, unbalanced and slightly out of phase. I have been correcting for it ever since. I clawed my way out of the slums of Lake Oswego on nothing but gain structure and a well tinned soldering iron. I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling buildings or crushing ice. I have mastered all six ways to skin a cat. I write award-winning operas and translate technical documentation into languages that do not yet have words. I am an occasional omnivore, my teeth are reversible, and I am at one with Runny Meat. I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I can cook two-minute eggs in less than a minute. I have been known to cuddle. It is not true that I ran for mayor of West Linn. The rumor persists because I have never denied it in writing and I am not about to start. I have written number-one singles for William Hung. I am a world renowned vampirologist and have been called upon to authenticate all three of the vampire diaries found to date. I am an expert in glass bricklaying, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Brazil. I breed prize-winning clams. I have owned and operated several recording studios in the Portland area. I don't perspire. I am surrounded by noteworthy circumstances.

I learned electronics from Radio Shack Science Fair kits. Diodes and resistors could regularly be found hidden in my afro. In fifth grade, using the mechanical timer switch from a washing machine, I haunted the entire Weatherstone subdivision with random buzzers, horns and lights. I once connected thirteen recording studios via Supra at a blazing 14,400 baud. At night. I have been explaining why ever since. I taught a bulletin board to draw in 1993 and nobody asked me to stop. I'm in possession of a working DAT deck, borrowed from one of the remaining four people on earth that own one.

You can’t polish a turd... but you can roll it in glitter.

My dreams are closed captioned in three languages. Contrary to popular belief, congressman David Wu did not take a bite of my hot dog. He did, however, offer an apology for not doing so. I invented the Joist Sandwich. Using only a hoe and a glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from an attack of ferocious bullet ants. I read ancient Egyptian manuscripts in the original Sanskrit. I am a competitive hog balancer, a master archer, and a ruthless bookie. I don't snore. I have trained dogs to climb trees and chase rocks. I once ran sound for Nirvana and had an “incident” with Kurt Cobain backstage. I have good rotation on my shot. In 2010 I stayed after practice and made 332 free throws in a row.

I own Sting's instrumental album and periodically annoy the neighbors by playing it at a high volume. My political viewpoints have been abolished in six countries, including Burma and Nauru. My hair (*circa 1986) has been preserved for posterity. I sleep only fifteen minutes a night and do so standing up. It is rumored that I performed covert operations for the CIA. I have been incorrectly classified taxonomically as a Cro-Magnon, due to a mixup at the DGSE; a DNA test later proved that I am not even related to myself. I record strange comedic music under the pseudonym Luke Warmwater, a name bestowed upon me by a clerk at a 7-Eleven in 1978 over a burrito and a Big Gulp. My web site was offline for thirteen years. I renewed the domain in every one of them. I once installed a fart sound on a professional portfolio. I left it running for years. Not one client ever mentioned it.

I am an unselfish lover, an investor in the Chinese stock market, a rabble-rousing herdboy, and an inspiration to freedom fighters everywhere. My mom is a respected painter, and I changed my name from Michelangelo. Children trust me. I once had a neighbor whose feet were eaten posthumously by a domesticated porcine house pet. I do not use lip balm or play hacky sack. I can make extraordinary four course meals using only a spatula and a toaster oven. I collect Eggcorns. There is exactly one sentence on this page that I have redacted, because the organization it concerns keeps excellent records. I would prefer not to appear in them. I have a wife named after Brandy de la Court, and four children named after the mountains Catlow, Lassen, Vail and Paulina. I have lived as a jet set surf bum and rubbed elbows with drunken Hollywood celebrities. I am now doing something completely different.