I imagine that I came into existence like a video game, specifically the way Samus Aran, heroine of the Metroid series, came into existence. Video game creator Yoshio Sakamoto started developing 1986’s Nintendo classic Metroid with simplistic movements for the game’s protagonist already in place: “jump, run, and shoot.” I imagine my father–never one to care about the gratification of others nor one to welcome responsibility–handled the experience of creating me with similar movements, though surely in a different order: shoot (cum), jump (get dressed), run (leave).
My father had a problem with cocaine. This I concluded based on my own vague memories mashed against slipped nuggets from my mother. I shouldn’t blame him; he was born with the infamous “Ross nose,” which is identified by enormous nostrils, holes big enough to store an 8-ball inside (the pool kind and the drug kind, probably simultaneously). The way I see it, considering the awe-inspiring size of this genetic abnormality he was obligated to stick something in there, and if not hotdogs for the sake of winning a contest (that should exist, if it doesn’t) why not cocaine?… Read the rest