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My story begins with an arduous traverse across the vast cold Russian Steppes fleeing from the Bolsheviks in St. Petersburg where my meeting with Sascha was unexpectedly interrupted by the Red Forces while attempting to find freedom in the region now known as Kazakhstan. Unfortunately, the run-down Eastern European sanctuary eluded me, so onward I went into Communist China finding myself once again traversing a vast, empty desert plain. This time, the Gobi desert beckoned. Not too heartily pleased with finding myself in the middle of a Gackt music video, I set out westward towards the European plain, settling in the heart of Germany and surrounding myself with Hessian Mercenaries and a hearty band of Roma musicians. Having settled quite comfortably and mastered both the mandolin and nunchaku, I boarded a gutted C-130 left over from Allied occupation in Western Germany and headed towards California where I proceeded to go underground as a Substitute Teacher able to be found from time to time posing as an Art Teacher, English Teacher or Anatomist. As the end of the school year neared I procured placement at a Sea Base in Newport Beach in hopes of catching a ride on the first freighter headed towards Reykjavik. Sadly, global warming had not yet effected the Northwest Passage and this means of escape eluded me. Not to be outdone, I returned to my prior undercover status, this time working as an unassuming legal assistant in the Long Beach, Ca World Trade Center where I now spend my days drafting documents and writing subversive articles on the hidden meanings of Journey lyrics, delving into the actual sinister purpose of Star Tours and plotting my return to the former Soviet Bloc. Life seems to have srttled for a brief moment in time, but don't be fooled; I have the ability to make men love me with a glance and kill them with a thought. You don't escape Stalinist Exile without learning a useful skill or two.

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