My Father was born when the sequel to the World War was declared.
I was born during black and white TV.
I grew up whilst being raised by the Saturday morning cartoons.
I moved while denouncing the hair and inviting the speed.
My adulthood bloomed during the last death spasm of the newspaper.
I was married during the impetus of the internet café.
My child was conceived before, but was born after our new holy war.
I hate numbers.