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Autobiography of a Mad Man.

When I was young I fought in wars such as WWII, Vietnam, Brood War, and many in the medieval British empire via a computer. After all of that destruction I needed to help rebuild, so I embarked on a journey to save the planet from global warming by building hundreds of giant fans across the mid-west. I feared too many fans would set us on an accelerated course to an ice age, so when I was 22 I retired from that life and moved to the suburbs outside of a small town originally known for its celery. My focuses on life now are saving abused vehicles from Craigslist, making sure local bars stay in business, and endlessly guitar soloing over Rust songs.

After a few years of incorporating myself deep into Mexican culture down in Orlando, I decided I was bored and that I liked money. As a result I wound up at the utopia of the earth, Des Moines, Iowa, riding through life like a rodent on a rusty roller coaster in Russia. A few romances, jumping out of a plane, and 35 turbines later, my crew and I traveled east to planet Hoth were we discovered the pizza pizzazz rotating to circus music filled with food normally sold by strange men with limited teeth at a creepy carnival.

Fast furiously forward through a few terrible but ultimately hilarious dating routines, one even involving hiding under a bed with a bullet proof vest on, and then I had the greatest idea ever: Start a ridiculously retarded website so I could humor myself in the good times, and anchor myself in sanity in the more… story worthy times. I’ve always had good stories, but I can never remember any of them for more than about 6 months before they are overwritten with some insignificant Facebook rant or over 9000 cat memes. Now with the website, and the memory of an aging goldfish, I can forever be entertained at a level only readers of this website could understand.

The big white fans tend to visit me still in my dreams from time to time, and a few months a year I still feel like I’m abducted by aliens that live inconveniently 45 minutes from the nearest Walmart. They put a lot of numbers into my little square card in my wallet though, which is nice since buying stuff is fun, and watching lines go up on this app called stock market is almost as much of a story as being stranded somewhere in the Gray Pearl.

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Matt Martin
The only person insane enough to make a stupid website like this.

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