Very well, where should 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 Chloe with webbed
feet. My father would drink he would womanize... he would make outrageous
claims, like he invented the question
mark. Sometimes he would accuse
chestnuts of being lazy. A 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. If I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap
bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, actually. At the
age of twelve I received my first scribe. At theage of fifteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically
shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn
scrotum. I assure you It,s breathtaking. At the age of eighteen, I went off to evil medical
school!!!!
Layout by CoolChaser
