Gimme More

Oh by the way... Andrew dropped out of school last week. Two weeks ago? Recently. Nursing, it seems, was indeed right up his alley, but as chance would have it "his alley" was, due to some unfortunate error by the United States Postal Service, not, in fact, his alley after all. Turns out he lives somewhere rather closer to his current location. That sounds too simple, actually. His heart just wasn't in it.

So what, everyone asks him, are you planning on doing now?

Well, before he answers, he would like to remind the reader that this question arises not from the depths of your soul where tricky concepts like "truth" and "passion" lie, but comes instead from the relentless ad-driven multinational consumerist terrorist nine-to-five power suit world we live in. So get off your high horse and get in touch, dude, because Andrew has decided to be a professional hippie. He already owned a pair of Birkenstock sandals and has been seen on multiple occasions in a sarong.

So, as a professional racecar driver, what can friends and family be expecting from Andrew in the next few years? Medals a'plenty. Drinking milk. Flame-retardant fashions. And if the astronaut thing doesn't work out, he'll land among the stars. There are only four hackers in the world who can get into myspace and steal ur background, and he is one of them. He and his manager have already set up a seven-state tour of to-the-death duels, and his opponent gets to choose the weapon each time. If not him or Raffi, who will save the baby belugas?! In the deep blue sea?!

In conclusion, he will be spending his mornings writing stories, because that's something he enjoys and has always dreamed of doing. He'll be happy to autograph any copies of any books he manages to get published, but suggests that time spent counting chickens might be better spent sending good vibes his way, cause those eggs have only just been laid.