. . . let us see today my denizens. what is the mode of your polyglot narrator today . . . hmmm . . . how does vampire III feel this early morn? rather moody, a little georgia, a little alabama in the viens, more alabama than gorgia thank god. somebody just told me something i'll never forget . . . that i, your handsome narrator was strange, strange, strange man. imagine me, deka, the invincible illuminated illusion - iii, a strange wanka. no! i refuse to believe that i . . . 'i am legend' . . . am any more strange & stranger than the black fella on the east bound heading to decatur early in the hokey pokey morn, talking to himself about gorillas, zues, god, heaven, and fighting white romans on ivisible battlefields - he was crazy strange . . . the homeless lady walking barefoot talking to herself, pointing in all different direction is strange . . . the man standing next to her staring at me for no reason . . . he was strange . . . the old drunk who likes to fight is strange . . . those fools i see standing around the bus station . . . those stripper girls i see walking in high heels up the steps of magic city, thier strange. me, i'm just foolish fire is all, a brand new type of neo country man. a bit bloated and obtuse is all, maybe even a sciolist but i'll never admit to being so strange that i wouldn't admit to painting my face black and green and snapping nude pictures of myself and my girlfriend only to chicken shit out of putting them all over the internet to get your hodgepodge attention. i'm no good german either . . . i don't even like hitler. . . but i'd love to sit down and have a cup of black bean coffee with the old crazy boy, but that's besides the point. i'm a rather lanky street person yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. i'm this i'm that. so what. i'm a lot of things you'll never know. here's a inkling. i have no ties. i'm loose. i'm brown. i'm lost and not found. i'm eager. malnurished. but strange. noway hoziah williams . . . you can can ask the girl who put the paint on me that.