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Table of Contents It Takes a Village Just Some Unnotables League of Disasters Pour Some Sugar on Me
Cock Needs a Waddle Beach Grim Grins Sad Sacks & Sourpusses Romanthycal Forest Map of Angst I Am biggerKrissy
Welcome to Stuffit, Livin' the Plush Life

Population: They're all dicks. And not the good kind.

These aren’t your kids’ stuffed animals. Unless your kids are sloppy, lazy bigots.

Over the years, tens of people have fallen in love with the biggerCritters, the garbage plush residents of a little-known hamlet in Angst County.

The biggerChronicles is a peek into the biggerCritters and their history, politics, race relations, religion and daily lives. They put the puff in “Pfft, what assholes!”


Man, this was a lot of work.

What was going to be a little three-month throwaway I could bang out, turned into a two-year whole thing. I stupidly thought it would be easier to make up a place, so I wouldn’t have to do any research.

I’m not sure how I got that idea past myself. So I did real research for my fake place. Didn’t use it.

Do you want to know all the other things that happened in 1989 that would have sent the biggerCritters out of Florida, even if swamp cock wasn’t real?

“But it’s so long,” they said.

Not to mention, this is my first creative writing in 20 years.

And I’m definitely not a designer - so that was an enormous nightmare. Learning new software, redoing the design maybe a hundred times. Doing it all yourself is grueling. Grueling.

So here we are 20 months later.

As the scope of the project grew, so did my health problems. The last couple years have been so, so difficult.

Which leads us to the question I get ALL THE TIME.

What is biggerKrissy?

I started this weird little toy company shortly after I was diagnosed with lupus (yes, yes, I don’t look sick ...) and found myself in “early retirement” way back in 2001. Before iPhones. When all we had was Friendster.

Then everything around me fell apart, and I barely knew which way was up anymore.

As I stood over the ashes of my life, in my finest velvet curtain dress, my voice rang out over the South’s setting sun: “I will rebuild this bullshit. And this time I will be a bigger, better version of myself.”

And biggerKrissy was born. The year was 2002.

Bygones.

The Los Angeles Times Magazine once called me a “salty dog,” a charming and mischievous bad influence. So I’m doing something right.

Which is exactly why you should stay tuned for the biggerChronicles, Volume II. Because I didn’t leave it all out on the field with this one.

The field weren’t big enough.