Daymon Ferguson hails from Hell. Or rather, Chico California, where he was born into a white trash tradition that heâ€™s been trying to escape ever since. High school brought the impetus Daymon needed to become a comedianâ€”he announced to his tenth grade drama teacher that he would one day become a stand-up comic. He got right on that, too. A mere twenty years later, here he is! But first he had to take care of a few other careersâ€”Daymon has been a diesel truck mechanic, pizza delivery guy, forklift mechanic, waiter, racecar driver, ditch digger, exotic dancersâ€™ bodyguard, and lawyer. All of which have helped prepare him for a career standing up in front of a bunch of people, telling dick jokes. Six years of work as a lawyer have taught Daymon to truly despise lawyers. Since making the decision to quit law for comedy, heâ€™s started to feel his soul growing back. It kind of itches. When heâ€™s not in front of a jury or worse, a crowded comedy club, Daymon likes to tempt the fates that have let him live for the last 35 years. He flies small planes, scuba dives, and pretends to be a medieval warrior by putting on 50 pounds of plate metal and running around in the blazing sun getting hit by big men with sticks. He is also an actor, a half-assed guitar player, and an avid wine connoisseur. (But please donâ€™t call him a wine geekâ€”he prefers the far more dignified â€œcork dork.â€) Heâ€™ll pay $100 for a bottle of wine. But in beer he is true to his white trash rootsâ€”he refuses to spend more than $6 on a 12-pack. Daymon lives in San Jose, California with his lovely wife, his dog, three cats, some fish, and a bunch of fussy, demanding, and emotionally abusive houseplants.