Or, in my case, the Hatchling stories.
When I was newly brought into the world, I was small. I could climb before I could crawl, I was always climbing on things and falling off things. I had a permanent bruise on my head.
My family didn't have its own house yet, so my parents, four-year-old-brother, and I, lived with my maternal grandparents. They had this coffee table with a cabinet full of toys. I would take out all the toys and go in the cabinet. Sometimes, they found me upside down and asleep in that cabinet.
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My first words were apparently "hat is fun".
We're still trying to figure this one out.
I WANTED SOME FREAKIN' PEANUT BUTTER
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
According to my family, my earliest human memory never occurred.
My first memory is of my grandmother's dog Shaun-Ti.
Well, that sucks rather hard.
I was premature but I'm not entirely sure what condition I was in.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
I have never played TF2, and it doesn't really look like something I'd enjoy.
I do have a few hats, but I don't wear them very often.
/obligatory
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
I think I was marked. By someone. Or something.
Other candidates include the Illuminati and Nicolas Cage
But it seems unlikely I would make a deal with the Devil when I was 3. Unless I was really precocious.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
At least, that's presumably what happened. I was told about all of this post-stitches, and I cant remember any of it due to being asleep.
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis