When I was younger, I always used to pray before I went to bed every night. After a while though, when God never answered back, I got really depressed. To cheer me up, my dad snuck outside my window that night with a megaphone, and pretended he was God. This went on for years, and God would come and answer my prayers each and every night, and tell me how special I was. It always bugged me though, that later every night, God would sneak into my parent's bedroom and fuck my mom real loud.



When I was really young, I thought it was really funny to run up to a grown up and punch them in the crotch. But man, I sure met my match when Uncle Pete came over that one day. I just kept pounding away at his crotch, but no matter how hard I hit him, he just laughed gently and patted my head. That's because Uncle Pete didn't have testicles or a penis.



When I was a kid, I really wanted a dog -- but my parents gave me a hamster instead, to see if I could handle the responsibility. I hated that hamster, because I really wanted a dog. After a while though, despite myself I grew to love it. The years went by, and that hamster and I became best of friends. When it died, my parents said I could have a dog - but I said I wanted another hamster instead. My parents were so touched by my compassion they bought me a dog and a hamster. Of course, it ended up being too much responsibility, and after a while, the dog just ate the hamster. Still, yay! A dog!



"I'm pretty sure your dog doesn't eat dogfood and poop out nails," my Uncle Pete said. "If that's true," I said, "where did all these NAILS come from?" I held up the nails. "From the hardware store," my Uncle Pete said. The HARDWARE STORE. DOG FOOD. DOGS. STORES. I was close to something big. I just knew it.



My dad wanted to teach me a lesson about responsibility, so he killed my dog. At least, he said it was a lesson in responsibility. Now I just think he didn't like all that barking.



My father watched us play from the porch, as we ran back and forth across the yard playing Treasure Hunt with a map we'd made. "Help us find the treasure, daddy!" I yelled as I clutched the map. "No thanks," he chuckled. "You kids go ahead." I remember thinking how odd it was that he didn't want to help us look for the treasure, since he was on welfare.



I remember when I was young, there was a little girl in my class named Suzie. Suzie had really long brown hair, and we always used to tug on it. That is, until that one day, when I accidentally tugged so hard that her head came right off, and all eight litres of her blood came gushing out of her stump in a shower of gore. We all agreed never to pull hair again.



My dad always used to insist I call my mom "bitch" instead of the traditional "mom". It sounded odd at first, but eventually I got used to it. My dad lives alone now since the bitch died.



My dad used to work at an orphanage, and I think it really depressed him that so many kids didn't have homes. So he'd always be bringing home a new brother or sister for me. Then he'd sell them, and buy expensive steak.



I always loved the circus as a child. My favourite ride was "Deep Sea Adventure," where you'd put your head in this porcelain bowl, pull a lever, and "flush" water on top of your head. Of course, it was a good thing it was my favourite ride. It's not like the big kids gave me much of a choice.



The best part of recess for me was when our gym teacher brought out the footballs for all the kids to play with. All the kids would pick up the footballs and start playing, and stop laughing at me because I was poor. "Look, Daddy!" I said, running into the room. "I dressed myself!" "No, you didn't," he replied calmly, reading his paper. He was right. I ran upstairs, hot tears welling in my eyes, and tore my how-to-dress answer sheet into little pieces. It was there I swore to myself that I would never cheat again.



Teenagers can be very cruel sometimes. I remember how me and my friends would wait by the bathroom, and call little Eddy Dreskin "homo" and "fag" because he was small and didn't dress well. Then, still chuckling, we would all walk into the bathroom and ream each other's assholes with our penises. And never once did the irony of it all occur to us, that we too weren't all that fashionable in our choice of clothing and clothing accessories. Ah, to be so naive again.