This is Russell. Russell was the saucy lovechild of my wacky imagination caught in a Close Encounters-Mashed Potato moment of discovery. Though I only knew Russell for a matter of seconds, his personality is as much a part of me as the air I breathe. We all have a Russell in us. Some have yet to find him. Some have chosen to bury him deep beneath a trash heap of petty nonsense and pointless quibbling. The lucky ones spend quality time with their Russell each and every day.
Though my Russell, who happened to be the actual Russell, was a complex construct of random bathroom accessories – – what he represents, is far from complicated.
I’m up way past my bedtime.