Mr. Numb3rs

the details of my life are quite inconsequential... where do i begin, my father was a rather self-improving boulangerie owner from belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. my mother was a 15 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... the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. my childhood was typical, summers in rangun, luge lessons... in the spring, wed make meat helmets. when i was insulant i was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. pretty standard. at the age of twelve i received my first scribe. at the age of fourteen, a zoroastrian named vilma ritualistically shaved my testicals. at the age of 18, i went off to evil medical school. at the age of 25 i took up tap dancing. i wanted to be a quadruple threat...

comic book stuff, new jersey devils, obviously naked women...