The details of my life are quite 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 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. 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'd 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 received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
Cars, computers, sci-fi, nerdy things, bears
The Garage Woolery Collection
2007 Ariel Atom
2006 Lotus Exige
1993 Lexus LS400
1990 Mazda Miata turbo
1971 Dodge Charger
1966 Porsche 912
1954 Chevrolet 3100 5-window pickup
1950 Ford Fordoor flathead V8
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