I'd take the moment of my birth
This time round, Josh's Birth 2.0, it would take place on Mt. Vesuvius, with, like, satyrs and goblins and fauns prancing about, the midwife would be a weird sister with a shaggy chest, and someone with a flaming brand dribbling sparks all over my mother, and a bloody sun rising, and "Thus Spake Zarathustra" being sung by all the birds and beasties in unnatural bass. And all the angels and demons would be sedately clapping in tiers, like at the end of A Clockwork Orange. There would be much quaking of the Earth's foundations and screaming and renting of clothes and moony madness and raving and speaking in tongues and, finally, with a totally anti-climactic pop, I would emerge, with the memoirs of my experiences in my mother's womb for 7 and-9-quarter months, clutched against my gory chest
This time round, Josh's Birth 2.0, it would take place on Mt. Vesuvius, with, like, satyrs and goblins and fauns prancing about, the midwife would be a weird sister with a shaggy chest, and someone with a flaming brand dribbling sparks all over my mother, and a bloody sun rising, and "Thus Spake Zarathustra" being sung by all the birds and beasties in unnatural bass. And all the angels and demons would be sedately clapping in tiers, like at the end of A Clockwork Orange. There would be much quaking of the Earth's foundations and screaming and renting of clothes and moony madness and raving and speaking in tongues and, finally, with a totally anti-climactic pop, I would emerge, with the memoirs of my experiences in my mother's womb for 7 and-9-quarter months, clutched against my gory chest
