The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving 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.

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Cake day: June 30th, 2023

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  • I shit my pants and locked my keys in my work truck and blocked the entrance to a gas station on a hot day in L.A once and nobody spoke English. Watery diarrhea running down my leg and I’m sweating while a bunch of men in work trucks yell at me in Spanish. Sun beating down ok me.

    Anyway. Life can change fast. And when your at the bottom it can change for the better fast. I locked myself out of my car and pooped my pants cause I felt a great force trying to rush me into a decision. Had I slowed down I might have just shit myself and been able to escape. Take your time here, don’t kill yourself. You can do that later. You shit yourselve, don’t make it worse by locking yourself out of your life.