Sometimes I like writing crap. Y'know, sitting down with a pen and a notebook and writing about wherever my mind happens to wander. Not with any particular point, or even the goal of being good. I don't know if I'm crazy and I'm the only person in the world who likes to do that. Anyways, I'll start us off with my Bio:
I was born 16 years ago today in a little cardboard box in the basement of the FBI headquarters. My first word was "nimrod." My life was incredibly boring for the first four and three eights years. All I did was sit around, watching TV, eating, and sleeping. Then a friendly little moth taught me how to play video games. So for the next 47 days, that's what I did. Then I got bored and ran away from Hyrule. I walked around waving a nice sword around with a little green hat on my head until I found the great city of Canadia. I managed to decipher their language, eh? Ha! I knew you wouldn't understand me when I said that! Anyhoo... where was I... Oh yeah! So I bought a shield to go along with my sword in the gift shop at the Eiffel tower. And then a bunch of SWAT guys jumped out at me from nowhere yelling "put your hands on your head" and "drop your weapons". Well, I didn't want to lose my sword and my shield, so I put 'em on my back. Then I put my hands on my head, and apparently that was good enough for them. They hauled me away to the police station and locked me up in a tiny little cell. It didn't have any windows. So then I had to go through airport security. That took me forever. First, they're like "ok everybody take off your clothes!" and I'm like "What is this a strip bar?" but the guard came up to me and gave me a hard look so I took off all my clothes. Then they're like "ok everybody now take off your epidermal layer!" so I did. Then they found a compass in my pocket and they were like "hmm this looks dangerous!" and then they put a big metal dome thing on top of it and blew it up. So they gave me my skin back and then they gave me my clothes back and I said "um I have a big sword strapped to my back, aren't you going to take that?" and the guy was like "hmm what? Oh no, you can keep that" so I finally got on my plane after eight or nine years and nearly died because the movie was Star Wars: episode II. I had to lock myself in the bathroom to avoid vomiting all over the people sitting next to me. That wasn't too bad, since there was an issue of PC gamer in the bathroom. And somebody had been tampering with the smoke detector so I had a nice bonfire and ate marshmallows. Then my nerdy buddies showed up and we played D&D for the rest of the flight. So I got off the plane and found myself in a nice little town called Eugene, Oregon. It was nice. And they had a nice swimming pool and a lot of hippies. So I decided to stay, and I've lived here ever since.
