In October of Nineteen-Eighty-Cock-A-Doodle-Two, Lester was born with lungs the size of a newborn baby's. His small, fragile body looked like sweet and sour pork. He couldnt even speak English. Things did not look good for little Lester.

But then he moved to Alaska. Despite it all, he triumphed over his weaknesses while never looking back. Against the harsh, unforgiving Alaskan landscape, he learned English. He learned how to play the saxophone. He learned how to love. He learned how to play the Titanic theme song on the recorder. With his nose. He even learned cursive. But he still routinely begins sentences with conjunctions. Oh, Lester! When will you learn?

When Lester was 16, he started a design firm; one that, like Lester himself, has survived against harrowing odds. Now, at the sprightly young age of 24 and measuring a height of six feet two-and-a-half inches, Lester has become a striking image of the modern-day success story, and christ-like to boot! His taste in music is unrivaled. It is for this reason that he is now judging the Nikiski Talent Show for the second year in a row.

Lester's dream in life is to someday become a Super Bowl MVP. His worst nightmare is that someday he'll get suckered in to riding on a cruise ship and then the crew will be all, Hey, why dont you go for a relaxing swim in the ocean? and then he'll get chopped up by the propellers. He lives with four cats, named Pussywillow Jenkins, Professor Fangsworth, Suckerpants Garfield, and Adam Segura. Adam is a tall cat with no fur or tail, two hands instead of front paws, two feet instead of back paws, opposable thumbs, guitar skills, and he wears clothes. His only cat-like feature is the ability to walk silently. You might say that Adam is not a cat at all, but rather Lester's human roommate with no discernible cat-like qualities (aside from the previously-mentioned silent walking ability). You wouldnt be mistaken. When Adam was a baby, he had webbed toes and fingers. You can watch a video of Adam breastfeeding Professor Fangsworth here.

Lester is a Libra. To learn more about Libras, watch this video.

Would you like to have a word with Lester? Email him.

A short excerpt from my upcoming novel

As many of you already know, I'm writing a novel at the moment and it's been picked up by a publisher to be published next year. I've been doing way too many section rewrites right now, way too little "new" writing, and am getting kind of panicky, but all in all, I know it'll get done. Here's a short excerpt from what I wrote today:



A repetition of fleurs-de-lis embossed on the thin, white linen curtains radiated sunlight, casting a glowing field of lilies on the beige carpet of Elmer's new apartment. Elmer and Jude both agreed that it was a cool effect, but that the curtains were ugly. Jude slowly walked over and opened them, taking in the sights.

"You've got an awesome view, man, he said. Elmer's new dwelling was fifteen stories up—sixteen, if you counted the lobby—and from his eight-by-five foot windows, you could see three bridges and all of downtown Portland.

"Well, you want to start carrying stuff up now?" Elmer asked.
Jude shrugged.

"Okay, then," Elmer grinned and headed for the door. Fifteen floors down (sixteen, if you counted the lobby), and two blocks away (three, if you counted the left turn you make at the stop sign), was Elmer's Taurus station wagon. As he opened the door, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

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Work didn't start for another fifteen minutes, so Sarah poured herself a mug of Grape-Nuts she had brought from home. She worked at The Soup Coop, a fast food restaurant in Tacoma that served nothing but drinkable soup in tall mugs. They had a drive-thru that served soup in soft drink cups with straws. It was a terrible job. "Why do they call it Grape-Nuts? There's no grapes or nuts in it." Her glasses slid down her nose.

"It had something to do with Mr. Post, the guy who founded Post cereal," Charlie replied. Charlie was boyishly attractive and Sarah loved him. She loved every minute working with him. It was a wonderful job. "Look at the ingredients, there should be something that starts with an M. Malto-something." Sarah looked, but Charlie grabbed the box. "There. Maltose. When the Post guy tasted that ingredient, he thought it tasted like nuts, but that ingredient was also referred to at the time by people in the cereal biz as 'grape sugar', so, being the clever guy that he was, he called it Grape-Nuts." Charlie was full of these kinds of random facts that he'd picked up during the 19 years since he squeezed out of his mom's womb. Charlie was the sexiest man alive.

"You're making that up." Sarah knew he wasn't.

"No I'm not, I swear." Charlie smiled, killing Sarah instantly. He continued. "By today's standards, Post could get in serious trouble for calling a cereal Grape-Nuts, if it weren't for that hyphen. The who's-its... the FTC! could sue them for false advertising if they had used a space instead of a hyphen, but some food bill something-or-other of 1906 declared that the hyphen made the name fanciful rather than deceitful."

Sarah was in heaven, but then Charlie's cell phone went off and his focus changed, sending her straight back to the hell of The Soup Coop. What a piece of shit job.

"Oh, hey man." Charlie looked in Sarah's general direction, then turned and walked to the kitchen. He didn't even look directly at her before he left, which was all she wanted. Charlie was a selfish assfucker.

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©2006 Lester Nelson


posted by Lester at 7:28 AM