Profile 4: Sam Read

About me 

Last year, the greater yellow ecosystem recruited me to Bozeman.  I am able to gallop, cartwheel, and front handspring but I cannot summersault, trot, or stagger.  Every September, I swim the Nile using only the elementary backstroke to keep up on my cardio. I have acquired more student debt than yo-yo tricks and was born with more facial hair than toes.   I have been referred to as the Prince of Daybreak, Premium Grand Master, and The Chancellor.  I am less than the sum of my parts but greater than the product. 

While guiding tours to the bottom of the Krubera Cave, a flash flood rendered me isolated and helpless for 37 hours.  I not only survived, with my extra time, I created compound interest for the development of civilization. People often compare my speed to that of a two story up-escalator.  The iron, top hat, and thimble Monopoly pieces didn’t exist until I played and I have the 8th wonder of the world buried in my childhood backyard. 

I founded Trolli gummy worms then bartered away the company for a pair of Nikes, 21 acres of land outside Dubai , and a broken compass.  Later in life, I drew out the original blueprints for Wrigley Field on an Arby’s napkin.  My mouth lacks the ability to create saliva.  While I’m on the dance floor, ballroom dancing is a full contact sport.  Andre the Giant was my right hand man. 

When I was a child my village was pillaged by savage brutes with no regard to life; everything was destroyed except for me, my family, and my pet turtle, Django.  I tutored Hyman Minsky in financial theory during his time at the University of Chicago. My girlfriend has traveled to six different countries.  I received a standing ovation for my 7th grade book reports on Moby Dick, The Great Gatsby, and Horton Hears a Who. 

I often confuse spinach and dollar bills; I keep both in my wallet just in case.  I am the most wanted outlaw in North Dakota and Ash Ketchum has the bill of me hanging above his bed.  I once axed down a Redwood using only my sharpened bare hands all to retrieve my neighbor’s housecat.  When handed lemons, I prepare a spectacular three course meal that would render the judges from Food Network’s high renowned show, Chopped, speechless.   I convinced Wacław Sierpiński to give up on the square and mothers want me to date their nieces.