There's not a lot to know about my past, not a lot that I like to share. My mother is Irish Catholic and my Father is Jewish, I'm sure you can see what kind of an interesting life that can lead to. I speak two languages, English and Yiddish, though the latter, well...not quite as sophisticated as the first. Life was easy, my parents didn't beat me, my father wasn't a drunk, there was nothing critical or horrifying. Though, being quite a bit smaller than the rest of the guys didn't really help my temper.

I learned really quickly that just because I was small, didn't mean I couldn't hit, and hit hard...I grew up in a battle fighing off anxiety, and with it came the medications to control my temper, the medications to control my rage, therapy...my parents went to no ends to try and help their only child. Dude...I was an ass to my dad and he took it, amazing...fucking man that he is. I broke my mother's heart, and she took it....a saint, all in her own.

I went to a party when I was sixteen and I was turned trying to break up a crazy chick fight, okay...well, not a crazy chick fight, but more or less a crazy chick who was a little more furry that your normal Daisy razor was going to take care of. She partial shifted and I took the brunt of it along my right ribs...3 weeks later, I went through the most excrutiating pain of my life, my first shift.

I spent the next two years trying to learn to control myself, but it didn't work....I sunk myself away in my music, and it was then my mother decided home schooling was a benefit not only to me, but to humanity as a whole. When I was 18, I packed my shit in my van and I took off for the open road...2 years later I found myself in Tibet. The 13 months there...saved my life, I learned self control...peace...relaxation...and how to become one with my wolf...it opened the door to a new life.