When I was young, I joined the Army and spent half my life in. All the things I've done are starting to pay me back. Some days it is a real pain trying to get up in the morning. Like I was told by the Colonel, "It teaches you to hate properly." In 1993, I was used in some experiments that kind of messed me up. I am now the proud owner of a Tramatic Brain Injury. Since then, I've gotten 7 Certifications from MS in networking and security, and also been forced to complete the Acquired Brain Injury program at Coastline CC. Learned that my cats own me, my clothes are "Distracting", and that I'm not "PC". I'm a big Elvis Presley fan and have a bunch of his stuff, Collect the autographs of my favorite Silent Movie Stars and Blues musicians, collect guitars, and hang with my Army buddies when they aren't in jail. I've been thinking about learning to be a road-kill salesman or maybe I could be a pole dancer. If I dance on poles, would I have to rub butter on my belly, wear a straw hat, put an eggplant in the back of my shorts, and move to the soundtrack of Xanadu? I think I would also be a good "Greeter" at an STD Clinic. I just hope the uniform wouldn't be a talking Scab or a purple condom with lips. I was going to be a Ballerina, but the tights hurt my balls. And just because I like it, here's a bit of Elvis' wisdom:“Don’t criticize what you don’t understand, son. You never walked in that man’s shoes.†And a bit of my own: "Don't lick the bottom of that man's shoes, you don't know what that bloody looking brown stuff is".
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