There's many things you may not know about little old moi. For one, I am a Japanese Kestrel Juggler, as declared in the occupation section of my page. To be a said juggler requires much commitment and determination. Those cursed kestrels never stay still, damn their beaks. Having just hurled much abuse at kestrels I do also add that without them I'd merely be a street beggar, possibly screaming in anguish in hope of enticing some innocent bystanders to my vicinty, before flicking small pieces of metal ore at them until they break down and share with me their bread, the food of life. Jesus liked bread, oh yes he did. Next to sand it was his favourite source of nutritiony goodness.

Generally, I do enjoy the word `marshmallow` when said by the typical American president. Apart from that, marshmallows are not to my taste at all. All they are is, in thoery, a handfull of the nearest marsh with some mallow conspicuously sprinkled upon it.

On the serious side, I only have four legs. Lost my other seven in the woods. Can't tell you how, too many bad memories will flood back, and when they do so, God forbid, they will haunt me forever!

Oh yes, I forgot to add, Muhammed, peace be upon him.
That's me in a nutshell!

Non posso parlare alcun langauage oltre all'inglese. Tuttavia, mi prendo un piacere grande che fingo posso. Le cose semplici soddisfano le menti semplici! Benedirlo.

A doninhas sabe tudo.
A mulher do pastry fornece somente cavalos como um prato lateral hoje em dia.
Assim como que o tomate pode ver a menos que espancar uma tartaruga.

Ahhhhh, Holland. Het land van de lepel!

The Prawn
This is a very true story. Much more true than the fact that a rhino loves a midnight snack of asparagus. And that's about as true as any fact can get.
However, this is also a story of fear and woe. If you're a volatile baby, please do not read. Not that you can read, unless you're a bastarding superbaby!

Imagine the scene. You're at work one day, carefully cleaning pots, with care and caution. "Oh my!" you yell, loudly. Louder than an atomic bomb. You congratulate your vocal cords on producing such a friggin' loud bastardy volume. You inconsiderbale fool! You could have just deafend Mrs MarbleNose! And she's got a marble instead of a nose. It would be rude to deafen her. It's frowned upon to discrimate against people with oreign objects where their nose should be!

Anyway, your sceram of anguish was due to a dire situation. THE FECKIN' SINK IS BLOCKED!
No need to cry! Put that pineapple away, you won't be weeping into it today! (See what I did with the clever rhyme there? :P)
You reach down to unblock the plug, wearing a glove, possibly to maximise hygeine, possibly to look like a Spanish Glove-wearing Monkey Trainer, or maybe because the Republic of Smooglesmoff is forcing you to do so. They really are strict with their glove-wearing rules, ain't they? The Glovetastic bastards.

Suddenly, a prawn bites your finger. It's silly gob. That's what it uses.
Admittedly this prawn is dead. You just poked it's mouth. Oh, the shame. So much shame, in fact, that you hang your own head in shame involuntarily.

That's the true story complete, what a dark day of doom! Obviously the `you` in the story would be replaced with `me`. Unless the same happened to you as well? The chance is that is 78%. Good times.

Why did I mention the glove, I hear you ask in a mediocre amount of curiosity. The only one who truly knows the answer to that is that piece of bread hiding in your cat's ear! ASK THE BREAD!