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 womanize, he would drink, 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, really. At the age of twelve I reached my first scribe. At the age of fifteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically
shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. At the age of eighteen, I went off to evil medical school. From there....
There's really nothing much to say about myself...well there is, but you get the point because everyone on the internet says that. They don't want seem
like they love themselves, which they do.