The seven deadly sins.

My parents were flawed human beings, just like their parents and grandparents before them. That's as far back as I care to go. Sure, I've been to Germany and Poland, but neither visit changed my life. In Germany, tears welled up when I crossed the Neckar at the same ferry crossing as my mother did when she was a child. Tears also welled up as I drank vodka and piwo like my Uncle Tony in Warsaw's Stare Miasto, feeling as though I'd circled back on destiny for a night. But pissing into an unlit doorway isn't an anarchist statement, it's simple boorishness. I am what I am, said Popeye. Me too. A very unoriginal original sinner.

I figure the same ingredients go into everybody's human nature, even if the proportions vary from soul to soul. Here's my recipe:

✓ 1 qt. Pride, manifesting itself as coy acceptance of praise. (Recommended brand: "Aw Shucks, I couldn't have done it by myself.")
✓ 2 cups Avarice (if you've been laid off). Add 1 1/4 cup if you find another job.
✓ 1 tsp - 2 tbsps Lust, depending on your age and who is in the kitchen with you. Sweet or salted.
✓ 1 whole Envy. Trim off the green rind, discard, and only use the bitter heart within.
✓ 5 lbs. Gluttony, any brand you regularly use as a substitute for happiness is fine, although "It Runs in the Family" is highly recommended.
✓ A generous pinch of Anger, liberally tossed at those who can't, or won't, fight back.
✓ 3 scoops Sloth, brought up to room temperature. Don't worry if it melts, someone else will clean it up.

Mix well in a 170 lb. sack of flesh, simmer at 98.6℉ for a lifetime, and let loose upon the world. Serves one right.