Friday, August 24, 2007

The Midas Touch is a Total Bitch

Hello, my future subjects. I write to you from outside mother's womb for the first time - and on the whole it's not so bad out here, like a glorified sun-deck really. One thing is for sure though: medical quarantine sucks mega balls.

When I was delivered a number of unexpected things happened. While precautions were taken to prevent injury from the molten magma that entombed me, and that Uncle Randy had his best receiver's gloves on to catch me, we didn't count on something. I was born with the fucking Midas Touch. This didn't happen in my uterine lodgings, but it appears once out in your 'real world,' everything I touch turns to flawless solid gold. As you can expect, when I shot out of my homemade womb cannon, Uncle Randy ran a post (-partum ZING!) route and caught me over his shoulder. And before you knew it, his gloves had turned into solid gold. In a brief panic, he threw me towards the doctor who caught me against his chest, and became a golden statue right there. Father picked me from the arms of the former doctor and placed me in Mother's arms before slowly walking away. Later it was realized that Father's skin is made of a rare titanium alloy and mother's is of the finest porcelain, so they were not affected by my 'condition.' To add to the confusion, 4 nurses perished when upon viewing me, I literally melted their hearts. I actually knew I could do that, so seriously, that one is my bad.

So I have been computer-free for a full day, but it looks like my Midas Touch is actually fading - Father told a tale of how- throughout my life - ancient charms and prophecies will protect me and benefit mankind, and they reveal themselves through my very bloodstream as I age. Apparently this Midas thing is just a quickie.

Tomorrow I will be released from this quarantine and begin the name selection ritual with my parents and a council of long-supposed dead gods from olden days. It's a family thing.

But for now I am ending my first full day on this earth the way I started it: Eating a 60 oz Hanger Steak soaked in single malt scotch with two shots of Formula 1. Suck on that Gerber Baby.

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