I'm almost tempted to write Max but it would bring back too many childhood memories of writing to my dad and all the great racist/sexist humor he shared with me during my formative years as well as his hand drawn pieces of art copied freehand from various porno mags and adult humor mags. The wonderful tales of getting caught making jailhouse wine and the adventures of dad having his arsonist cell mate make match head incendiaries to throw into neighboring cells at other inmates engaging in late night homosexual activities which usually resulting in some minor burns and animosity from the "blueboys" as dad used to call them. Just talking about it makes me feel like I'm 8 years old again.