Location: A tiny overcrowded rain-sodden feudal island, off the North West coast of Europe,, U.S. Outlying Islands
I was born at age 40 in a humble woodcutter's cottage deep in the forest high in the Carpathian mountains. The midwife took one look at me, retched, slapped my father and mother, stuck a pipe in my mouth and set me naked on her motorcycle seat. It was all downhill from there. Eventually, of course, several hundred kilometres later, I crashed into the local chocolatiers' shop window. Making my escape on the pillion of a passing bicycling fish, I cunningly determined to conceal his world beating ganache recipe in my as yet unhealed umbilical knot, where it remains to this day, awaiting the right bather. Having completed my doctorate in the philosophy of pre-Cambrian (i.e. before anyone believed in the concept of Wales) rocket science from Le Sorbonne at age eleven, I turned my back on the groves of academe when i was offered the once in a lifetime opportunity to join a travelling dog circus as second assistant poodle wrangler. To be continued............
2 Comments:
Aren't you funny ...
Funny haha,
or funny peculiar?
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