Laroy Jenkins

The details of my life are quite inconsequential. Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Jita with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old Caldari prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the Caracal. Sometimes he would accuse asteroids of being lazy - the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
My childhood was typical - summers in Amarr, salvaging lessons. In the spring we would make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds - pretty standard really. At the age of 12, a Gallente named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum - it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.