'Write your story...' said the prompt. So I did.
Long ago, in a distant, derelict shack, I was conceived. Then, some time later, in a different even damper shack, I was born. Yes. Into this cold, ferocious world stepped a child who had a hell of a time tying his shoes and could do weird ungodly stuff like lick his own elbow. The betting money was on the wolves, lions and bears getting me right out the gate. But they didn't. Then later, thanks to the relentless forces of biology, I went through explosive years of puberty, erupting body hair and grumbling deeper than ever before possible. I smelled things. I thrashed stuff. I smooshed my face up against the glass. Yes, one could say this was the epitome of living, and in my book you haven't lived till you've gone the distance, till you've licked the scratch n sniff.
By now you're wondering, "Who, oh who, could this oddball possibly have become? What niche of reality could possibly benefit from his vintage, home-made lunacy?" Fortunately for you and the world at large, I went forth and put pencil to paper, mouse to screen, keys into code and became... A DESIGNER.
It was pretty cool. I set out to put colors in places, words into shapes, meanings into ambiguities and functions into doodads.
So, cheers and salutations! To phlegm and lust! To victory and ice cream! To organs and hammers and all the other stuff that's pretty good too! And to Steemit! May we wallow in our trough of dollars and coins from upvotes hard won!
