User:InappropriateName

Hello. I am a Badass.

My hobbies are punching Rhinoceroces in the nuts and drinking smoothies made from dinosaur placentae.

I speak 10 languages. Which is badass.

And recently, an armor-plated death van ran over my whole family, so I took the time to kill it with my tremendously explosive forehead.

I ride a giant robot called Larry. You can say "Hi" to him. He would say "Hello" back, but sadly, the only language he speaks is Hellfire, and he conjugates his verbs by ripping the tearing out of angels. Larry is half motorcycle, half dinosaur, half dragon, and half dog.

Please forgive me if my math is a little bit off here; I'm just a little distracted by my magnificent-son-of-a -bitchness which rides the Houndlike Guardian of Robot Hell to work every morning, while you loudly curse your Kia Optima and seethe in impotent, jealous awe.

I am currently homeless, but only because my house only occurs whenever the ash plume from an erupting volcano generates enough static electricity, or whenever you finally hurl Saurons accursed ring into the fires of Mt. Doom. The sight of it is the only thing on earth that gives the Devil nightmares. It's what would happen if natural disasters could bolt together Voltron-style, the best way that nature can give you the finger, and like every single AC/DC album cover came to life and roundhouse kicked your eyeballs right in the cock at the same time.

This may all be true or may not be true