Andy P. Fugdale is a musician, entertainer, comedian, actor, director, writer, mid-wife, stool softener, mood elevator, and road kill scraper. He’s dabbled a little in Gynecology (self-taught) but he couldn’t get past the labia. He’s poking around in Proctology now, but don’t get your hopes up gents.

His 4-year old daughter, Jez-bel, is all grown up now with kids of her own, making Fugdale a proud grandfather of two – a premie and a thalidomide baby.  NOTE: Andy was never married, so all of his descendants are technically bastards.

Fugdale is fond of cocktails.  Gentlemen swarm around him because of his dashing charm and his irrevocable wit.  But his natural magnetism seems to attract the ladies, like moths to a lightbulb.  Unwed mothers and female firefighters are a particular nuisance.  He is currently investigating various pest repellants to eradicate the problem.

WARNING: Do not come within a 40-foot radius of Fugdale as he enjoys his personal space bubble a little bit more than the average person. If Fugdale approaches you in public, your safest bet is to make yourself appear as large as possible. Fugdale is intimidated by large predators and will back down. Lift your jacket above your head and spread it wide like a Dilophosaurus. Do NOT climb a tree or play dead as this will arouse Fugdale’s curiosity.

In his leisure time, Fugdale likes to knit warm woolen mittens and eat the gumdrops off of other people’s gingerbread houses when they aren’t looking.  You can often find him at various car shows and drag strips because of his extreme fondness for axle grease and that “fresh new car leather” smell.  Places you are NOT likely to find Fugdale include fitness centers, pickling factories, swamps, marshes and tiny doll houses.

Finally, Fugdale would like to borrow a dollar.  It’s for the bus and to get a sandwich and not for booze.