The details of my life are inconsequential. Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year old French prostitute named Chole with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy...the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical...summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum...it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.....
I have been a bartender for about 12 years now. No; it is not my main job, but I could make it if I wanted to. I have made quite a name for myself with my presence behind the helm..I am known for a number of specialty drinks I have made over the years. This is why I am known as the Dr. of Mixology. The Dr. is on duty as of now....
No; I am not a gyno...but I will take a look for you though.
AngryWhiteBoy Clothing & Apparel
Date: Apr 16, 2008 8:00 PM
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