I was born a Munster. I will die a Munster. It has nothing to with cheese. And everything to do with my family.
You see I was orphaned at a young age when my mother and father died mysteriously on vacation in Eastern Europe. It had something to do with villagers and pitchforks. So at a young age I went to California to live with my Grandfather and my Aunt Lily.
It was a good life. I loved Southern California. I learned to surf. I hung out on the beach with my friends Gigdet and Moondoggie. But there was one problem. My Uncle Herman.
You see he liked to touch me.
