Not unlike the majority of earths population, I spent the average 9 months in my mothers womb, growing four average limbs, ten average toes- an average ear or two- my nostrils and two lovely clavicles that adjoin my shoulders to my chest. Now, inhabiting a uterus for 9 months does have the tendency to become quite dull, so I learned to keep myself busy, playing such fetal favorites as umbilical cord tug of war and count the red blood cells. However, this only entertained me for so long and I soon became disillusioned with the whole “soaking in placental juices” thing, and it was perhaps appropriate that I was born shortly thereafter on the twenty-second of March 1990. Now although my birth date was on the exact date that my doctor had prognosticated, my birth was still somehow unexpected and I was heaved out in the back seat of a minivan, 2 feet above the sweltering asphalt of the Florida turnpike.
My aberrant behavior (to be expounded upon later) began when I was 3, when I fell from the 15-foot fence that ran the perimeter of my preschool. The accident occurred while trying to obtain a stick of exceptional quality(the best ones were scattered in the forbidden parking lot) that would serve as my sword and my omnipotent auspice over my peers, who would pour all the gummi bears in their lunch boxes at my tiny regal feet. My tiny regal hands were indeed tiny and regal and lacked that meaty edge that would have allowed me to hold on with any sort of certainty. I fell at the 15 foot mark, and in a dubiously credible act of acrobatics, I did two and a half back flips, landing my head squarely on a the conveniently placed boulder below. At the hospital the doctor anesthetized me and removed a small damaged portion of my brain. I got ten stitches and red tootsie pop. Tootsie pops are gross but I was totally the coolest kid in preschool for a week.
I grew up in Miami, Florida where much of my time was spent collecting seashells and throwing them at birds and sleeping tourists. It is there where I grew up (to be expounded upon later in great detail) and met the guys I am currently sharing this blog with. They are some of the most precocious and flavorful individuals I’ve ever had the fortune of meeting. This is going to be an interesting little experiment if they have anything to do with it. I have been described, by my peers, as romantic, slightly cynical, delightfully discursive and offensively hirsute. I enjoy blurring reality and fiction to brain churning levels and have an unfortunate proclivity for lengthy appositive phrases and pretentious vocabulary words. My name is Chris Stair.
-Based on things that actually happened.
P.S. I like Korean girls (this is not a direct reference to David Lee).
DO you guys have any interesting stories involving your birth or childhood memories involving brain trauma? Please share!