This is the beginning of a manifesto by my friend Hailey, Fashion Engineer and fellow adventurer. We lived together last year, so I'm the roommate. To be a part of someone's manifesto is one of my greatest accomplishments.
Here it is:

There was a mummy-man that my roommate last summer told me about. This mummy had the story of his life tattooed from his pinky finger, clear up his arm, and down his side, to his pinky toe. This roommate and I had lots of fun together; always making up stories, and pretending things. After work, we used to bike up to the reservoir sometimes and he would fish with a fishing pole he had fashioned from a cork and fishing line (fishing wasn’t allowed up there) and I would wander around and eat blackberries and flip off the rope swing. We were like hunters and gatherers. But it wasn’t until we had known each other many months that we ever even saw one another outside our kitchen. Before that our whole relationship was based on fantastic stories like the tattoo man. What exactly did the mummy man’s tattoos say? What would mine say?