an 18-year-old scrub from Chicago

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"Hey, nice Azoogas." -Spanky, The Little Rascals


I'm Brendan. Sixteen. 

I was born in County Cork, Ireland. Wallow. 

I moved to America when I was around one, so don't expect me to recite Danny Boy flawlessly.

So some people hate to read life stories. But, I suppose since we're among readers here, most of you won't have a problem with educating yourself on the tumultuous subject that is Brendan McKee.

As stated earlier, I was born in Ireland. I, for some reason or another, remember it well. Commonly, you're not supposed to remember things as a baby. My first memory was my first haircut. I sat in a yellow jeep and kept pushing the barbers hand away with my pudgy baby fat fingers.

Now keep in mind, this is not me trying to slip in that I am some kind of prodigy child. Far from it. What I've managed to remember from my very early childhood was taken in exchange for the remainder of the second through fourth year of living.

I must have woken up one morning, and found myself in Chicago. Into a hardcore Irish Catholic family and in a hardcore Irish Catholic Elementary School. Its a nice city, if you manage to skip over the homeless like a game of upper class hopscotch. Stuff happened, developed anorexia, got over anorexia, started swimming, getting pretty good at it, sparing you all details, etcetera. 

And eventually I moved to the suburbs, and I am now finding myself in a highschool that practically uses Tweenage Fashion Brand names for currency and sells Voss water in the vending machines.

So, thats really about it. Thank you for taking the time to read my speal. 

I'm just here to look for some writers to help me out in my latest project.

Contact me if you want. 

I like long walks on the beach, pirates, free food, and world building. 

Love, Brendan McKee <3 

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