The details of my life are quite inconsequential.
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 12 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 suggest you try it.
