Dr Jones

The details of my life a quite inconsequential. Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving belongere owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepcy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old prostitute named Chloe 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 posess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon. Luge lessons. In the spring we would 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 recieved my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a zerostry named Wilma ritualistically shaved my testicals. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. Its breathtaking. I suggest you try it.