New Hampshire

I have various business interest...

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving pastry shop owner from Greece with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother taught English to pygmy Amazonian tree loggers who had taken vows of silence. My father would gamble, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times 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.