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A-damn! The inner musings of your man in Amsterdam

9 October
External Services:
  • buckofive@livejournal.com
  • Vespa Loco
"The details of my life are quite inconsequential. My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15 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. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring, we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, really." - Oh and I am a big Mike Myers fan too.

OK, if you endured the Austin Powers quote and are still reading this then you deserve some actual details of my life. As for me, I'm just your typical geek-turned-international-jetsetter story. Born in the bustling metropolis of the Greater Phoenix area, I grew up in cookie cutter conservative white suburbia. Somehow I knew I didn't quite fit in right, but it took moving 5500 miles from home to figure it out. As fate would have it, I was asked to move to Amsterdam for part of a work assignment. Naturally, I leapt at the chance and I have been ejoying the Dutch culture ever since.