I graduated top of my class from State University of College making a million dollars an hour for a second-tier hedge fund. I had a month’s supply of placenta cream eye-circles-remover. I was loaded. My parents were two rats that jumped on a slave ship and had to steal cheese from cartoon mice just to stay alive. They gave birth to a healthy human infant in an abattoir in Bed-Stuy. I clawed my way out of the sex slave pit (as which the abattoir doubled) and promptly marched to an ESL class in Akron. It wasn’t a short walk but I was bad at cartographic reasoning. 20 years later I was in State University, majoring in quantitative sports. When I graduated the dean gave me a bar of gold for being a good example. Unfortunately, 2008 landed on my sack like a sack of bricks. I had all my funds tied up in penny stocks and short-sells of Google. Now I’m poor but it’s fine. I never understood money terribly well and I already had a taste for human excrement. I am the 100% and I’m sticking to it.
I’m a cutpurse, a scoundrel and a regular old Robert Downey Jr. To be clear, I am not Robert Downey Jr. I do love the entire franchise of Iron Man and most assuredly will love the new Avengers. I think I had a job when I was a teenager but I’m not really sure. The mind isn’t the same after all these years. Economic hardship has torn my family apart much like I figuratively tore my family apart much like I actually tore them apart. They were being droll. I’ve been watching Dexter, trying to rehabilitate myself but ever since Dies Irae, it’s all been downhill. I might be the angel of death but I never asked for any Government fat-cat handouts (not even a little ASPCA kitten with tiny, singed whiskers), I have never had any money to speak of (other than what I stole and promptly put up my nose) and I don’t even know what technology is. I live within my means and by means I mean a flesh tent of ex-half-friends, coworkers and whatnot. I am the 100% and I’m sticking to it.
I am Hyacinth, the boy god. I don’t have to work and as my rooty-tooty-fresh-and-fruity name suggests, I am a lover of Apollo. When the economy hit the floor, I was alright. I didn’t have student loans and I got a job at the West Wind’s glory hole. I didn’t need the money, being a God and all, but it gave me that pulling-your-boss-off-like-he’s-a-bootstrap brio that I’m told is a real CV builder. Currently, I’m a flower so I don’t need iPads, Palm Pilots, Chevy Aveos, a subscription to US Weekly or even a trendy fedora. I am the 100% and I’m sticking to it.