On July 9th, years ago, a child was born. This child, though important in the immediate vicinity, would soon realize the overwhelming odds of being insignificant in a historical sense. He also came to expect that he would undoubtedly leave this world the same way he arrived; cold, wet, crying, and unaware of anybody who loves him. I am speaking, of course, about Tom Hanks. As for me (also born on July 9th), I am a star.

Listen, don't hear.

Bronocucore