About Me
It was 1985. For me, life began in an overturned rusted out shopping cart behind a mafia-endorsed illegal bottling facility in Sarajevo, which specialized in slipping sizeable quantities of LSD into the drinking supply of the Bosnian separatist leaders who later became my surrogate family, where I first passed through the birth canal and blinked grudgingly as rays of light hit my eyes for the first time. But it wasn't until 1989 in Madrid when I took down a full grown bull with my bare hands that I actually felt alive for the first time.
I was born with a full head of hair and a head full of ambition. My first few years of life weren't anything out of the ordinary. I began learning things all babies do. I learned to crawl and walk, but not necessarily in that order, and gained a masterful command of a dozen some odd languages. After learning as much as I could from books, including anything from potty training to the social impact of contemporary Russian literature on the global economy, to several different forms of martial arts and even particle astrophysics and quantum theory, nothing extraordinary for a boy of a hefty four years, I traveled to Madrid where I obtained the first of my many doctorates. But I soon found curriculum and such regular life a bore. Starting in 1990, I traveled the globe with a passion for adventure, danger, romance, espionage, liquor of all kinds, drugs of all sorts, and small stamps of the rubber variety, while collecting friends and enemies like spare change as I went. Trouble came to me like flies to a pile of shit. I tried to avoid it but soon gave in and began to enjoy living life in a way that could cause me to cease to be, at any moment, in any sense of the word, living. Day in and day out everything was epic. When I was six, I led a party of a dozen men in an expedition up Everest from Khatmandu in conditions so severe that the mountain claimed the lives of half my men, and assassins the other half. By the time I turned eight, I had made several missions into outer space, and would later land on the surface of mars when I was fifteen. When I was ten, to celebrate my first decade on planet earth, I took my yacht out and circled the entire globe. The vacation turned sour when I was captured by pirates and forced to fight my way off of their island fortress after chewing off my own foot to escape a two-year captivity. Being a ripe old twelve years of age, and having seen so much hardship in such little time, I found it fit to retire temporarily from my life of adventure. I found a woman to marry and settled down in a quaint mansion in the Swiss Alps. When I was thirteen my wife died and I was forced to abandon our three children to an orphanage to save their precious little lives because I learned of a contract put out on my life. They were in danger as long as they were with me. And I had to keep moving. Apparently, while in Katmandu, I angered a certain dignitary from a country that shall remain nameless, in a seemingly minor dispute over woman we had both loved. Apparently that minor dispute warranted the order and a hefty payoff for my assassination. Fearing the safety of my future and the well being of my now scattered family, I took matters into my own hands and tracked down the sultan who put out the contract. I confronted him and took his life in a scimitar duel, but not before he took my left hand. He was well trained in the art of swordplay. I was fourteen years old by the time I tracked my kids down. They were dead. Taken by the plague. With nothing left to live for I traveled to the shores of Ireland and threw myself from atop the Cliffs of Moore. I felt nothing as the icy waters wracked my body upon my devastating impact. I awoke less than a year later in a hospital in Australia where I was told that my presence was of vital importance in diplomatic negotiations with Japan. Just what country I was representing I was unsure, but I knew the emperor personally, and he owed me a favour. I told him to cut the shit and that was that. I traveled back to America, the land of opportunity, to find some opportunity. But instead found only bad television about fake breasts. Needing work, I went to NASA. My resume rich with experience in the Russian space program was more than enough to land me a job. My somewhat worldly experience and unique psychological profile made me a prime candidate for a brand new project, and they soon shipped me to mars in a top secret mission aboard a prototype space vessel able to travel at near light speeds. I landed on mars before I was sixteen. I stayed there for a few months to conduct my research. As I was preparing my return to earth, extraterrestrial creatures impounded my vessel and demanded that I pay proper taxes. I killed them all and returned home, carefully leaving Martian life out of my report. In the years that followed I lived life quietly in a small shelter made of sticks by a river in a nameless country. The weather was beautiful and the land was ripe with growth and life. Nature provided all that I needed. When I was eighteen, a weathered old man, development reared its ugly head, as I returned home one day to find a seven story shopping mall sponsored by an international pop star where my shack once leaned. Feeling defeated, and nineteen years old, I turned all my attention to political activism and incited numerous revolutions and overthrew countless national governments. There was no specific reason for such rash action that I can remember, I believe it was likely out of spite. With that done I moved to Manchester, NH and got a shitty paying job. Now I am in my twenties and you are still reading this. Sucker.
