The mentally mutilated man with the magic murder bag. Hyper-perverse lust dripping glutton with an extreme "don't touch me" complex. A manipulator of trapped ink and lazy sheets of blank paper. I am a direct contradiction to not having a face. I am a heavily medicated and sober young bi-pedal meat bag addicted to the harsh chemical commonly referred to as: air. I sing out of tune and constantly practice my creepy undulating walk. I'll make you question every thought you've ever had about the 'No Key'. Trust me... your imagining to hard. Although my pockets may be overflowing with searing hot strips of bacon, this does not mean that I stole it all from Salty's on Alki with Reid and Brandon. Also, I am seriously a HUGE fat ass. Oh, and I never tell lies...ever. My mouth is persistent with the vomiting of horrible truths involving, but not limited to, my habitual lying and common acts of jack-assery.
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