I fancy myself quite handy with computers. The Internet is a powerful tool I've learned to harness to my advantage. But I must admit that my line of work very rarely takes me into the varied, vague, journeys of online chatting, or blogging. Or watching cat videos.

I prefer to use the Internet for other means. More to the point of things, if you catch my drift.

So, what shall I tell you? What should Dear Digital Dexter bestow upon you, weary traveler, via this strange "bio" mechanism? Oh, where do I start...? The beginning is normally a good place to begin (imagine that). Yet, my own personal beginning, as they tell me, is rather dodgy.

I can tell you that I was born. That's a good bit of information. It's nice, it's neat, and it's neutral, don't you think? After all, I am told that birth is a miracle. Pure magic. ...Not that I could ever understand such an elusively intangible thing. I don't mind, really.

On second thought... There's too much blood involved with birth. Far too much. It's such a messy business, and I'm very thankful that I don't remember my own birth. In fact, it honestly gives me chills just thinking about it.

Maybe the beginning isn't a very good starting point at all. So, let's fast-forward past the graphic bits to present day.

I live fairly well with a working television and everything. Sometimes, I like to go fishing! That helps me unwind.

I was adopted at a very young age. My foster parents both have died, but my step-sister, Deborah Morgan, still lives. We're both family, and co-workers.

I have a girlfriend. Her name is Rita. You don't need to know much else besides her name, because she's mine, not yours. Mine. She has two delightful children who do not belong to me in the slightest, which is good. Otherwise, I might be accused of illegal trafficking in minors--something unquestionably foul. No, I don't do that kind of thing. Dexter is a good ol' boy, really.

As for my occupation, I work in forensics as a blood spatter analysist, for the good old Miami police department.