NEW ORLEANS (Gazette) — DO NOT mistake me for a member of POLITE SOCIETY. Why? There has been a rash of people beating me over the head about ME and MY life. You are getting on my nerves. You need to know right here, right now that I am a cross between a mountain lion and a grizzly bear. Please do not try to make me into a cute, little puppy dog or something like that. THEY called my dad THE Green-Eyed Monster, Jr., (actually because of the color of his eyes). I am the Green-Eyed Monster III (probably because of DNA). I am Ferd THE Third. Let’s get that straight.

I do not want to waste my time trying to figure out what kind of image my detractors have of me. That is their problem. At an early age (I think at about 9 or 10 months-old), I realized that I was a rebel; and there was nothing anyone could do about it. One of my proudest moments was when I had a fight as an altar boy at Corpus Christi Church before Mass (ON the altar in front of the congregation in my full altar boy outfit) in which I beat the other altar boy with a stick. I had pulled the “STOP” flag off of my patrol boy stick for the festivities. The next day, the priests had a hearing with me and kicked me “clean” off the Altar Boy Society. I loved it! I was only 11 years-old, and LOVED IT! Who in the hell thinks they can change me now.

I do not seek to run in polite society. I was a rebel since I was 2 months-old (actually realizing it only when I was 9 months-old). In the furthest reaches of my mind, I do not even much care what image my detractors have of me. I cannot concern myself with what image people want to make me into. Since before I could even hold my own baby bottle, my self-image has been similar to the likes of: the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Marlon Brando, Steve McQueen, Robert Mitchum, Paul Newman, James Bond. I am a card-carrying member of the likes of that group.

Jesus Christ loves me. I know that! However, one thing that I am not is a “bitch.” Ooops!! I forgot. I AM A BITCH. Sorry! In fact, I am A TOTAL BITCH! Hahaha. That does not sound right, does it? Anyway, I am not a HOE. Umm… I mean, I am not a HOE anymore.

Prioritizing my detractors, my special assistant (my Bond Girl) says:

Ferdie, honey, are you ready for your mission?