KPersimmon: No, it's not (necessarily) due to my sour disposition.
Due to a bad domestic situation between my birth parents, I was adopted by my grandmother and her second husband (both of whom will always remain my "real parents," my Ma and Pa.) I was the apple of my Pa's eye, the son he never had, and I was probably more dear to him than his own natural daughter. It was thanks to Pa that I have my great passion for the outdoors.
On one of our outdoors adventures in mid-fall, Pa and I chanced upon a wild persimmon tree. Taking two of the dark orange berries, he explained that persimmons were very bitter before the first frost fell on them, but since a frost had already fallen they should be very good to eat. He popped one in his mouth and nodded in satisfaction as he ate it and then handed me the other.
Well... I guess the frost hadn't hit
my persimmon!
Seeing my reaction, Pa dropped to the ground and rolled in laughter. For years afterward, this would remain one of his favorite stories to embarrass me with.
"Hey, Bub!" he'd say. " You wanna persimmon?"
The initial K stands for kumquat, another fruit that Pa introduced me to, with equally hilarious results.
Anyhow, it's in honor of my Pa, who died in 1989, that I've taken the silly handle of KPersimmon.
. I tried changing names on a couple forums to something catchy and gun related and she was all 
