I decided to be born in the wee hours of May 7. The doctors had scheduled my birth for May 9, but one of my key characteristics is that I'm not good at taking orders.
I stormed through kindergarten leaving behind teary, crying children whose sandwiches I had "spiced" with sand or caterpillars, or whose toys I had torn to pieces. I continued the practice in school, only this time I had more raw materials - fountain pens, books, notebooks, chalk, etc. Marvelously enough, none of my crimes against classmates were ever proven, and I managed to graduate with an impeccable record of good behavior.
High school was rather dull - my classmates were either too goody-goody or downright nerds to deserve any special treatment from me. College was more fun, and I still remember fondly all the martinizing I did with my colleagues over a pint of cheap rum in the cold winter days, while a few chosen victims were attending the classes to provide us with reading materials.
After college... life began, and it's not been particularly nice to me. But hey, I can still kick back every once in a while, and boy, it's really, really fun.
For the rest, I leave all to the poor, especially my debts :).
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