I was born the beautiful daughter of a wealthy farmer. When I was about 12 I killed at least 3 and may have been as many as 50 cattle with my father's rifle. I was promptly disowned.
I worked as a newsie in a bustling metropolis well into my 30's until I was brutally beaten in an alley for my change. As I floated up into the heavens, I ruminated as to how I found myself in such a prickly predicament in the first place...I vowed that next time I would not be so ignorant.
I was born the beautiful son of a wealthy congressman. I was brutally beaten in an alley for my pacifier. This time, however, on my ascent to the heavenly kingdom, I decided not to try and decipher what I had done wrong, and what I could do to remedy these things in future. Instead I focused on how I was going to smuggle the 1/2 Kilo of crack I had in my diaper thru the pearly gates.
I was born the homely son of a poor logger...