Life Story:

INTRODUCTION:

1985: I began my existence in a dark, dank place - a decaying cave of sorts. Armed with only my hands against the darkest and foulest of creatures, I devised primitive weapons. Spears, Arrows, Kalashnikovs. Those were prehistoric times. For all I knew, I was alone in the world - alone to fend, to think, to provide for myself. I never left the cave. Not out of fear, but out of some invisible constraint placed upon my frame. I began to go insane of boredom. Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became days, days became months, months became minutes, and I am rambling. Then one day, as if not a day had passed, the cove was wrenched open, and I was born into the light, never to see that ancient place again.

THE EARLY YEARS:

I was born in 1986, in a town called Chernovitz, Ukraine. I dont remember too much from my first year of life in "the outside world." When I was one years old, I had become disenchanted with life. I became depressed and naturally turned to the bottle. By age two, I had had my first intervention and after attending a few Alcoholics Annonymous meetings with all the other middle-year-aged loser babies, I became enchanted with life again. I quite the whiskey and turned to the white stuff, the white pony - Milk. It was the stuff dreams were made of: Two sips of that and I would feel on top of the world. From the age of two until four, I was living like a rock star. I was a rebel without a cause. The late night crib parties, the massive amounts of milk - we were four year olds partying as if we were still two. And we could play with the best of them.

In 1991 I was forced to give up "the lifestyle." The parentals insisted on an education. I repeatedly told them that I was simply to old to go back to school - my God I was already 5! I felt that I had learned all I needed through my varried life experiences. By 12 pm. of my first day of preschool, I had put 3 kids in the hospital and left the kindergarten teacher crying on the floor. Needless to say I was forced to switch schools. This cycle continued approximately 9 times until we had finally run out of preschools in the town. I got my way and was now spending the days at home, chillin like a villain in my crib. Dawg.

In 1993 I decided to give this whole education thing another shot. I came back to my first school, this time as a first grader. I wasnt too excited until I got to class and saw that more than 80% of my class were girls. But not only that: I soon realized that the majority of the boys in my class werent really boys at all. Or at least didnt act like normal boys: they wouldnt even come near the girls!!! This was almost too good to be true, I thought. Here are these successful, young women surrounded by what seemed to be eunichs I tell you! I soon easily became the Don Juan of the first grade. A little TOO easy in fact.

In 1994, my parental units decided that further change was necessary. This change, however, was a bit more drastic than any before it. In May of 1994 we came to America. I was 8 years old by then - an old man in an unknown land. I was sent straight to summer camp. For four months, I didnt understand a word that was said to me. They thought I was disobedient - a bad boy, a rebel. And I played it off well: pushing kids on the monkey bars, throwing baseballs at camp counselors, having a little "too" much fun in the sand box. I was branded the problem child - just the way I liked it.

But with the summer over, I found myself trying to make a new name for myself at a new school. Not knowing a word of english, I knew I had to convince the administrators that I wasnt some washed up 8 year old has been - that I was still a contender. They interogated me in a room and shined a light in my face. But I didnt break. I didnt say nothin! So some big shot in a suit came in and slammed some papers on the table in front of me and told me that if I didnt take this math test, then theyd kill my father and Id never see my mother. I broke his arm in two different places and took the damn test. Instead of puttin me in the second grade where I belonged, they put me in third.

By this time, the Western food had gotten to my system. I began to bulk up. I ate to escape my problems. Eating replaced the milk that had once replaced whiskey as my escape. I balooned faster than Marlon Brando in the last 20 years of his life. As I grew older and older, I became fatter and fatter. By eighth grade I was a whopping 190 pounds - a modern day mastadon, the new age behemoth. I was still shorter than 5 feet tall. I knew I had to drop that image quickly if I was going to survive in THIS world.

In high school, I decided to keep a low profile until I could break out of my now 210 pound shell. I replaced food with books - the healthier escape. I started going to the gym twice a day. If I wasnt learning, I was at the gym. It was my punishment and my reward, my stabilizer and my escape. Working out twice a day, 6 times a week, for a year straight allowed me to shed my winter coat. I came back to school in the begining of sophomore year a changed man. My first day at the school gym, I broke the bench press record for the school. The following day, the squart record. The day after that, the world record. By senior year, I had become the worlds strongest mortal, surpassing the likes of those such as Hercules, Achiles, and some even argued that I was stronger than Zeus himself. They asked for a blood sample, and when the results came in they said that I had tested positive for "Ambrosia." They said I was a G-d, and my record was thus disqualified since I was competing among mere mortals. It was complete BS if you ask me, but thats life. And thats the way my cookie crumbled.

My complete Curriculum of courses since Kindergarten: Still to come

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