How. (Not the question; the Indian greeting. I do possess a small portion of Indian blood, but not enough for a legitimate “Howâ€. I’m just a strange person.)
In my opinion, the “About Me†section is rather pointless, being that 90% of myspace profiles are private, and the only permitted viewers would already be personal friends who ultimately already know about you. Ah, the private profiles. Apparently 90% of all myspace users are in fact CIA agents, making it imperative that their identities remain hidden from garage bands and 16 year old high school students. Pretty heavy, right?
I, however, am not a CIA agent. I shall fear no garage band.
Those who know me already know how proud of a father I am, so I’ll spare you the endless explanation. Not only am I a proud father, but I’m also an at-home daddy. Its truly amazing how much more you discover about yourself while spending every morning and afternoon one-on-one with an infant; especially your own. You know those parents who obviously think their child is way better than everyone else’s? Yeah, that’s me. I’m obsessed with my son, he’s a genius. On a side note, August 23rd 2008 not only marked his first birthday, but also gave me bragging rights to the fact that I had officially seen “Finding Nemo†three hundred and sixty-five motherfucking times. Just keep swimming…
In terms of family and those alike, I feel like a Michael Bluth trapped in a world of Busters and Lucilles. That of course was an “Arrested Development†reference. (The TV show; not the hip hop group.)((Though the hip hop group is equally just as awesome.)) The only real challenge is separating the painfully humorous from the just humorously painful.
I think dogma sucks. The movie, however, is classic. I consider myself to be of the Agnostic faith, which is an ironic way of saying that I have none. Now, for all of you conclusion jumpers, please note that “Agnosticism†and “Atheism†is not the same thing. I was raised in Christianity, and still respect it as much as all other religious beliefs, or the lack there of. With that said, it’s probably safe to assume that most of you now think that I’m more or less the Anti-Christ. That is, of course, unless you already thought so. Be assured, however that I am in fact NOT the Anti-Christ, OR a CIA Agent. Nor am I Lucifer himself. No, my tongue is not forked; I don’t have horns protruding from the top of my shaved head; and I am not on fire. Further more, God will not strike you down for associating with me. If he’s up there, he’s probably more open minded than that. So please don’t be afraid to invite me to your birthday party. I promise to leave the demons at home :)
I’m slowly but passionately perusing a career in music. I could go on and on about it, which is why I have another page for that. Please check it out when you get the chance.
As I grow older, I find myself becoming more and more conscious to an unwritten obligation of the upper class. That obligation being: the nicer one’s car is; the shittier one must operate it. Who founded this law; I knoweth not, but I fucking hate them.
I’m no more or less racist than you and all whom you associate with.
I regularly smoke a briar pipe. Seriously.
I wear spectacles. They make me feel secure.
I think the only difference between Jesse Jackson and Adolf Hitler is that Adolf had a snazzier mustache.
Fuck Ted Nugent.
After reading "The Catcher In the Rye" twice now; I've still yet to assassinate anyone. I think I'd like my five dollars back.
I’m currently working out the kinks in my plot of revolution against grocery store automated self-check-out stands. I loathe those things with every ounce of my being and existence. I hate them almost as much as the people who think they’re the craftiest creations since the microwave, the internet, and of course the dildo.
I'm actually a lot more cultured and intellectual than my tattoos tell you I am.
Contrary to popular belief; I’m really not as big of an a-hole as I may come off as on paper. I’m actually a friendly guy with morals and values, as buried as they may seem. What can I say? Sarcasm and cynicism crack me up. Pessimism is a barrel of monkeys. Monkeys eat people’s faces and throw feces at one another. So you see where I’m going with this.
No, I am not completely out of my mind, but rest assured that not only am I working on it, but that everyone around me has been increasingly persistent in assisting me in my attempts.
I love you.