Hello there. I’m so happy to meet you. Glad you could stop by. Good to see you. Welcome. Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Nathaniel and I am from Little Rock, Arkansas. I was born on September 27, 1976 at Baptist hospital to loving parents who quickly discovered that there was indeed something very special about me. Perhaps it was the coal black hair, perhaps it was the bright green eyes, and perhaps it was the way the delivering doctor said, “That kid looks just like Alec Baldwin, only smarter” but there could be no doubt that I was careening down the path towards greatness.
As a baby and toddler, I walked early, I talked early, and I ate everything that would fit into my mouth. No, I was not one of those overfed babies that the state has to take away from an overbearing sugar-slinging mother; I got in to the cookie jar while my old lady was on the phone. I liked to sneak a hand full of sugar. I liked to get in to the fridge and steal a stick of butter. I wondered why the barbeque sauce bottle did not have a rubber nipple on it. What I did not do, however was sweat. It is not that I didn’t have the glands; I just didn’t have the ambition.
I spent my grade school years training on the English Horn, tambourine, and didgeridoo with such world famous masters as Bob Smith, Juan Miguel Burkina Faso, and Bill Murray who was still in his pre-Saturday Nigh Live “Serious Musician“ phase. I found out that sometimes it is not the notes that you play that are important as much as the faces you make when you play them.
“When you take that tambourine solo at the climax of a big power ballad, it is important to grimace like you have and itch in a place that you can not reach.”
-Jack Jackson, Percussionist and instructor
These gentlemen taught me well and it soon became obvious that I was ready to move on to more important things, namely lunch.
Feeling that I had developed enough cultural training, my parents sent me to Medical School at the age of 14. After being thoroughly examined by the students and doctors there it was determined that I was in reasonably good health for such a fat child and I was sent back to my parents. They were not convinced, however and sent me back to the teaching hospital for further examinations. The Doctors refused and a bitter legal battle ensued that still rages on to this day.
How do I feel about all of this? Permanently scarred, that’s how. And I do not mean that in a figurative sense. You should have a look at my lower abdomen. I have had so much work done, that I have started just administering local anesthetic and performing the outpatient grade surgeries myself. It’s not that hard if you are knowledgeable about anatomy and do not get queasy at the sight of a little gore. (I mean blood and guts not Tipper, who would certainly not be the little Gore)
I spend my days now wasting away at an uninspiring job in a cubicle about the size of a veal pen. (He has never seen daylight and his feet have never touched the ground) I’m surrounded by lab assistants who reward me for eating the blue pellets and give me a quick jolt of electricity to the pinky toe when I stop for breath. There are no windows, only concrete walls, and my only light source are the florescent lamp thirty feet away or the warm glow of my sweet, sweet companion, the PC monitor.
Don’t feel sorry for me, however. There are several good things I can say about my life. First of all, my hair grows in to a natural pompadour and you just can’t beat that. Also my wife is beautiful and creative and has not seen fit to leave me for a more handsome man yet, even though she is on air talent on the local morning show. I have a beautiful child who seems to not yet know the truth about me. I maintain a good attitude considering the daily challenge it is to lift the weight of my ever-growing gut. Also I have a few friends who encourage me by living lives that are every bit a sad and desperate as my own. I think it would be appropriate to mention that I have exactly two nipples, and I really believe that is precisely the amount one should have.
Which brings us to an interesting point; why exactly do men have nipples? They really show no function other than decoration. I do suppose they serve as a place to hang a piercing. I wonder if the nipple on males is like the appendix and can be removed without any noticeable changes in the body function.
God Bless you everyone.