Here I go. I'm sticking my big, hairy toe outside the curtain. I'm on the wide, white stage with my big, hairy self: all man, all confidence, all business, baby. Behold! The Big Harry Deal.

So I'm Harry, Harry Deal. Nice to meet you and all that. What'd you think of my entrance? Too flowery? Too bold? Maybe I overdid it a little, I don't know. I've been taking some writing classes at the Barnes and Noble (If my punctuation is messed up, it's all Darryl's fault. I swear he doesn't know what he's talking about sometimes). Tell you one thing, though, there was some serious butterflies going when I finally went to hit that "publish" button. You bloggers got my respect. And I haven't even really said anything yet.

Anyway, yeah I'm big, my name is Harry, and I'm also a hairy person, so hairy that people say I probably got hair growing on the inside of my body too. So what? Get over it--probably something wrong with you too (nose too big, zits everyplace). I'm six foot one and weigh about 320. Right now, I don't really know how much I can bench, but in high school I maxed out at 350. If I had to guess--me and you walk into the gym right now--I'd probably out-bench you. Nothing personal. I'm just telling you.

Anything else you want to know, you ask me, I'll tell you.