And then do I presume?  And how should I begin?  Well, if you've come this far, then one thing is clear to me--you clicked that damn "Portrait of the Artist" button, just so you could see my mug.  One interesting thing about these "About Me"-type pages: everyone seems to want to give their life story, but no one ever seems to want to read it.  So I guess I owe it to you, the reader (or visual-textual learner, to be p.c.....or picture-looker-atter, to be more precise with some of you) to make this thumbnail sketch of my so-called life as painless and as comfortably numb as inhumanly possible.

One thing that you will notice right away from the picture provided is that the subject is indeed a human male.  Now, make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen, this face (for what it's worth) belongs to only one person--me.  If you see anyone else with this picture as their claimed alter-ego, then it is very clear to you two things.  One, the person is NOT me.  And two: whatever creature hides behind my gangked pic has to be truly frightening indeed, especially to be using my face for theirs.  Now that we have that taken care of, let's begin.

Well, the first question you have to ask is, "What does this child do?"  (Or for out more perverted visitors, and you know who you are, the first question to ask is, "How big is....<insert genital identifier here>.")  Well, allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Michael Williams, and I am a 23-year-old English and Finance double major at Oklahoma State University in Stillwater, Oklahoma.  I'm an average student, nothing special in the classroom, so we won't be comparing transcripts here or anything....besides, I suffer from GPA envy. ;-)  My specific expertise arises under the scalpel of the pen onto the flesh of the paper, and I have performed some daring and mindboggling operations in my time.  Of course, I would be lying if I did not also admit that I have made some horrible incisions into the vein of literature, but I have used these to help me grow as an artist.

Now, I know what you're saying: "English and Finance?  What's he looking at as a career, proofreading the Wall Street Journal?  Speechwriting for Alan Greenspan?  English lessons for that stupid Merril-Lynch bull?  None of the above, my answer would be, for I have devoted my life to the advancement of literature, particularly my own.  Now, where does that make me different from a Crichton or a Grisham or a Danielle Steel, for that matter?  Well, other than they are famous and I am not, none of them have ever been in my bathroom before....Now I'm gonna feel really silly if I get up from this computer and go answer my door, which is knocking, and it's John Grisham looking to take a leak.  Hold on....

It wasn't him, damn.

Anyway, what other things could we talk about?  Oh, what do I like to do?  I have many hobbies.  I like to play music (I really have a thing for composing many different kinds of music), go dancing, hike in the woods, play basketball, tennis, golf, and volleyball (the last one more for the nice-looking eye candy that usually plays with me...but I digress).  I have a passion for literature (as you can see) and I like to discuss these kinds of things with others.  In addition, I guess the dramatic ham in me has to admit to loving to entertain people.  I have been known to begin what can only be termed a kind of impressionistic stand-up comedy routine that moves at a dizzying pace and keeps my friends laughing for hours.  I like to know that I have entertained people--that's my silly side.  My writing (although not always) tends to be my profound side.  I love to serenade people with my poetry, and I love to make out (I mean, who doesn't?......Sit down, your Holiness, I didn't mean you)

As you may or may not have gathered by now, I am a gay male.  As opposed to a gay female.  Or a gay neuter person (Bob Barker, that neutering bastard....at least, that's what my dogs say when they see him on "The Price is Right").  Being a guy who is gay (as opposed to a gay who happens to be male, a juxtaposition of importance that too many of our homo brethren seem to forget from time to time....expecially the foo foo ones), living out and in Oklahoma, you may be asking...."Is he dead yet?" (or in the case of Jeopardy, where the question is in the form of an answer, "Dead he is not yet.")  The answer is that I have niot had much problem in this place...of course, to look at me, I don't get fucked with a lot.  I don't like to fight, but I've been known to hold my own in a fight.  I abhor violence, unless its on one of those loud-mouthed children in the supermarket that want every goddamn thing they go past, crying when they pass it, unattained).  I don't force my sexuality down anyone's throat, it's just part of who I am.  And for the most part, most of my straight friends don't even guess until I tell them.  I remember this one, though.  This friend of mine (who shall remain nameless, so we'll give him an alias....lemme think, something that doesn't hint at the name, "Tim"....hmmm......I got it!  "Timmy!")  Okay, this friend of mine, Timmy (not his real name) told me he wouldn't believe that I was gay if he walked into my bedroom and saw me fornificating with the Backstreet Boys (which is a wonderful image, but simply not a doable one).  So I guess I'll just have to get a hold of their agent and invite Timmy (again, not his real name) down or a visit.  Maybe leave the front door open so he can walk in....oh, let's face it, he'd catch me with myself in the throes of that little dream.  ;-)

So where does that leave me?  Well, not a lot to talk about left, I guess.  I'm a simple man, trying to make ends meet, or meeting meaty ends, whatever your preference.  People seem to think I am fun to be around, and I'm not gonna argue with them (because it cushions my self-esteem, j/k).  I shall add more and more and more and more to this as time progresses, I promise.  Good day to you.  Or night.  Or evening.  Or whatever time of the day is best for you; for example, if you found this in the morning, but waited until later in the day to read........