braSs.knuckle.head

Member since: 02.14.08
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the details of my life are inconsequential...very well, where do 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 fifteen year old french prostitue 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 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. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At 14 I met an zoroastrian barber surgeon named wilma. She ritualistically shaved my testicles. There's nothing like a freshly shorned scrotum. It's breathtaking, i highly suggest you try it.