Or How I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb
posted by Nixie at 4:51 AM
Born in a mud brick hut in Timbuktu in the middle of a snowstorm, I spent my childhood years as Joan of Arc's armor-bearer. As a colonel in Napoleon's army, I learned to enjoy horseflesh while marching through Russia. My horse, Bucephalus, was less than pleased. My first love was James Joyce, but after a whirlwind romance, he left me for a mollusk. Today, I can be found meditating in my igloo in Thailand, or jello-wrestling Soros for the entertainment of the GOP.
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