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KEITH |
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I am your humble narrator and dashing hero. Cartoonist. Musician. Social activist. Raconteur. Ambassador from the slightly skewered world of The Knight Life to you, dear reader. I am just as curious about everything as I was when I dropped a handful of earthworms in my diaper. I'll take on anything. Marriage and family. Sports. Consumer culture. Race and politics. In my comics, nothing is off-limits. I think the fate of the world depends upon our ability to connect with strangers. The stranger, the better - like my friends and relatives.
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KERSTIN |
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My loving, oh-so-patient wife. She's pretty forgiving when it comes to my antics, but doesn't hesitate to let me know when enough is enough. She's German, with her unique take on American culture. She finds us amusing, confusing and just plain weird.
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MY DAD ( KEITH SR.) |
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My dad is retired. He lives in Las Vegas. Now, his job is to collect the free stuff the casinos give away and unload it on me whenever I visit. He's always asking how much money I make and wondering why I'm not rich like Kanye or Dave Chappelle or that McGruder guy. He's an avid golfer who believes Tiger Woods and I were switched at birth. He acts grumpy, but beneath that gruff exterior is a heart of gold. Or depleted plutonium (the water's not too clean in Vegas).
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DEXTER |
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A semi-retired gangsta rapper, my friend Dexter's record company faked his demise to sell more records. Keeping a low profile, he is nevertheless plotting his next big comeback.
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DEXTER JR. |
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In the meantime, Dexter's raising his young son, Dexter Jr., to follow in his footsteps. A quiet, hard-working, straight-A student, Dexter Jr. studies history and is no fan of the gangsta-rap genre. Dexter Sr. wonders how he went so wrong as a father.
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CLOVIS |
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A friend who is almost as geeky as I am. Clovis is a yoga instructor/masseur/animal whisperer-type who is fascinated by all things otherworldly. Vampires. Extraterrestrials. The Olsen twins. You name it, he's seen or been abducted by it. He's also a health nut, eating all kinds of earthy, crunchy stuff that tastes like dirt.
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GUNTHER |
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My next-door neighbor is fascinated by the fact that I take public transportation and don't have cable. He's a naïve, funny, goofy dude susceptible to any media trend or fad that comes along. He has few aspirations beyond becoming air-guitar champion of the world. His annual sleep-a-thon raises dozens of dollars for Internet research.
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