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. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.

"IDIOT POSTER OF THE MONTH SO FAR...GWP-- You have won IPM Award for your failure to completely comprehend a clear post & then choose to attack someone who points out your ignorance. While you are not yet in the same No Class Catagory as deRoberts, ClemTiger117 & Tigerdug23, you are getting closer to the Sewer Dwellers." - coachmac