At sometime around 3:30 on a random Friday afternoon, I dragged my tired ass into the two-bedroom flat I shared in West-Central Florida with my best drinkin’ buddy. Upon entering through the front door, I immediately noticed that my fellow renegade, an over-fed long-haired leaping gnome of a hillbilly that went by the name of "Tennessee", was sitting at the wall side of the dinette table, barely obscured by his first full pyramid of empty cans of Busch beer.

He had his face stuck in a dictionary. Try to picture: a drunk hillbilly with a dictionary - I knew this was gonna be good.

He raises one eyeball to me and starts to slur, “Dude!”
He paused -for effect, no doubt -then continued.
“I found your name in the dictionary!”

I distinctly remember thinking I needed to sit down for this one (or at least I needed to crack one open first).

He was pointing to the word ‘broken’ in the dictionary.
“Bro”, he exclaimed, “cuz, you’re my bro!”
He grabbed me with his meat-hook to emphasize our camaraderie, then continued, “and Ken”, he moved his stub of a forefinger slightly to the right, “cuz, that’s your name!”
“Get it? –HAAA!”, he laughed like Alf, the furry little alien from TV.

…and the name stuck.

Lately been playing live in cyberspace; it gives my internet stalkers something to do

You see -me- here, don't you?

Maybe later...

developers tore it down, ...the bastards