Troublemaker. Shit-stirrer. Old Man. Father of Bastards.
Known for pwning your interwebs and making CD trays spontaneously explode. Otherwise living a quiet life sitting on Sweaty's lap.
Likes to compose dirty haiku about Zach Braff in his head while watching the comic genius that is Scrubs.
Sheep-fucker. Wears kilts so his zipper won't scare them away.
Famous for schleping out the same old material from forum to forum, thread to thread, trotting it out like a third rate comedian performing in the Borscht Belt, delivering the line and waiting for his rim job shot.
Insightful and Intuitive. Unfortunately, doesn't know what those mean.