Greetings, dear readers, and welcome to my humble profile. Before we proceed any further, I feel obligated to tell you that this is not for the faint of heart. (Terrified scream echoes in the distance)

(Serene grin)

You have been warned.

I must first tell you that I have a great number of bodies secreted away in my closet. Oh, all are alive, I assure you. I made sure the last time I gave them food and water. Whether they are well... they would be if they would just lighten up and enjoy the situation. I mean, I have some wonderful people, fictional and real, in my closet. They should be able to enjoy each other's company. If I like you (in other words, if you feed me nice reviews), I may be persuaded to share said people.

Secondly, none of the characters I like are actually ever die. I don't care that Danny from The District went tete a tete with a car-bomb... he's fine. You see, once upon a time, I watched an anime called Noir with my friends, in which Chloe (a damaged yet awesome character) was supposedly killed by having a two-pronged fork jammed into her heart. My friends and I have discovered that this is not, in fact, what happened. Chloe, in her great awesomeness, dragged herself to her car and drove herself to the hospital. She is fine. We have also decided that, on the way to the hospital, Chloe also ran into any and every character that we have ever loved and has ever 'died'. The purple-haired anime goddess with a heart of gold - and two-pronged fork - was kind enough to pick up said characters and take them to the hospital with her. They are also fine. Chloe used to drive a Cadillac. She now drives a double-decker bus.

Troisimement, j'ai un bac es Sciences dans un universite francophone. Oui, je peux lire et (presque) ecrire le francais (mais, malheureusement, je n'ai pas encore decouvert comment mettre les accents sur les lettres. J'ai un nouvel ordinateur portatif, et je deteste le clavier). Je vais profiter de ma deuxieme langue de temps en temps (autrement dit, je vais utiliser la langue francaise afin d'inserer des commentaires bizares dans mes textes). Ayez peur. Ayez vraiment peur.

Translation: Thirdly, I have a bac in Sciences from a francophone university. Yes, I can read and (almost) write in french (but, unfortunately, I haven't discovered how to put accents on the letters. I have a new laptop and I hate the keyboard). I will take advantage of my second language from time to time (in other words, I will use the french language to insert weird comments in my texts). Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Finally, though I am a mediocre writer, I am also a sucker for attention. I cling to reviews and praise like a fourteen-year-old depressed, pissed-off, woe-is-me, too-much-black-eyeliner-wearing, goth-wannabe kid clings to their Marylin Manson cd just to piss their parents off. Wow... where did that analogy come from? Might I add that said kid does not actually represent me, as I am 23, don't do makeup, am not goth and don't actually own a Marylin Manson cd?

Uh... finally finally, I am kinda crazy, and not in the good, creative way. I try to be PC, but don't always succeed. Forgive me in advance. I joke the most about the things that are furthest from my true nature. I don't mean to insult the things/people I joke about, as I am usually very open-minded. Actually, if there are two types of people I can't stand it's those who are intolerant of others and hypocrites. (A joke!Get it! You see, by saying that, it means... eh, screw it. It's not funny if I have to explain).I enjoy laughing at the absurdity of the world, so if you can't take a joke, at least take a chill-pill. Flames will be used to make s'mores.

Finally finally finally... I don't shut up.

(Grin)

Bye!