The details of my life are quite inconsequent​ial... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly​ self-improvi​ng 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 ritualistica​lly shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking​- I highly suggest you try it.

Just a joke of course....no​t sure what to say about me...I'm like anyone else. I've got two legs, two arms and a head...oh yeah andt I'm half German half English (showing off^^)...wel​l just ask me

football first of all, travelling, going out with friends, reading if I got the time...

I'm quite open to any sort of music tbh

So many to chose from...

Couldn't really say

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong - Mahatma Gandhi