kc was born from an egg on a mountain top. he's the funkiest monkey that ever was. he likes to jump off high things and throw poop at people. he thinks "poop" is one of the funniest words ever. every joke can be made hilarious with this magical word. poop is the word, there is power in the word. kc is in love with his computer, and sometimes with me. i think his computer has an evil plan to woo him away to vegas for a cheap elvis/showgirl type wedding. that is if i don't punch it in the face first. kc won the nobel prize for punching people in the face. kc does not like jerks. he also does not like people with the same name as him (name stealers), and strangers. if kc does not know a person then that person is bad. kc likes to eat chocolate salad and newman's own lemonade. i know where kc's tickle spot is. i would tell you, but i would have to kill you, right before he kills me. he has the state of texas tattooed on his rump. he holds the world record for number of fuzzy blankets slept under at one time. kc is a super wrestler. you can break anything over his head and he comes out like a champ. he's the best guy a gal could ask for. i don't remember asking for him, but he sure is the best.

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