a very good place to start

i guess i should start at the very beginning so there is some basis for the loops and flashbacks and tangents that will follow.

i almost died before i was born. my very pregnant maternal egg donor (here on out referred to as “she-devil”) was riding shotgun on my paternal sperm donor (here on out referred to as “the amazing invisible man”)'s motorcycle. they got hit by a truck.

not a wimpy little "i live in the suburbs and i have to drive a truck to pick up groceries" pickup but an 18-wheeled monstrosity. the amazing invisible man went one way, the she-devil went another, and the bike went under at least 4 tires before reverting back to protoplasm. the amazing invisible man went to check on the bike first.

growing up, the crushed motorcycle helmet from that accident always had a place of honor on the 'family' mantle. it was the reminder to us kids of why we weren't allowed near motorcycles. it was also a constant reminder that the fun and recreation of my parental units was more important than the health and welfare of their spawn.

from that point forward, i loved motorcycles...but hated helmets.

what does this little incident tell you about me? a lot. i have a weird ability to get entangled in horrible situations and come out unscathed (mostly). my parental units will never get any mother or father of the year awards. and if someone tells me i can't have something, it's the only thing i want.