To start off, that's not his real name. Its a stage name. He dropped his real name when he dropped out of school in the 10th grade. Things have been rough since then, but hell, school wasn't paradise either. Despite the obviously foolish desiscion, he's managed to pull together something of a life. Key word being "something." For one thing, he smokes too much, and his whole apartment smells of cigarettes. He changes the color of his hair according to the day of the week, running through his shaky cashflow relatively quickly. Still, he figures something'll happen, be it for good or ill. He plays in a band just about every day of the week, providing lead trupmet and backup singing. His outfit of choice is a matching suit coat and slacks, with a neon yellow and purple tie. The coat's generally open, revealing a dreary colored shirt, or a bare chest if he's feeling particularly lazy. He also has a tendency to not wear shoes, only sandals, which are black with yellow straps. He also feels strange surrounded by all sorts of animalistic hybrids. Occasionally he wonders how he ended up here, only to shrug and go about his business. He has a thing about thinking too hard.