I’m a failed writer, with nerves of string cheese (not brie, cause... no). Now, I could be optimistic, but whatever courage you manage to pry out of the dry brittle reservoir that is my psyche, I assure you it’s only bravado. I'm a slave to chance, a dead cat, and the fat lady (Catch that? I’ll tip my hat to you good sir- here's a non-existent cookie, its chocolate, I'm sorry if your awesome-intolerant, but its the thought that counts), as well as quite a number of my own... oddities. If it weren’t for spellchecker, I’d sound like the reject child of President Bush and a 2-year old (not literally, sick bastards). My tastes in music reflects my state of mind, truly, so take Frou Frou, Nicki Minaj, Skrillex, Sinatra, and Ludovico Einaudi and try to imagine the sort of person who would listen to them: You now know 25% of who I am- Congratulations. And for the very special trolls out there, I am well aware brie is not stringy, I apologize for not being texturally correct. Now go away.
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