More about the all-unknowing me.

Before I go on and on and on and on about my life and how it sucks so much more than yours and how it’s written so that you can feel better about yourself, I believe it necessary for me to tell you, my oh-so-special reader, all about my superior inferiority.
I am a genetic nightmare for most geneticist. A tall Asian who knows how to drive, doesn’t eat rodents/ domesticated animals occasionally, has a moderately sized penis (although like most men, I beat it bruised until I think it grows), I grew up thinking about others, and most importantly, I have and use a functioning brain (not mine, I bought the brain from a friend).

^- One of many things I could have gotten if I hadn’t eaten the rest of my damned fries. Where was I? Oh yes. I’m different. But only so much different from stereotypes. It’s what happens when you grow up in a poor society that took it’s fun from laughing at people who were different (I’m looking at you white people who went to my middle school and everyone in my high school).
As for what I want, well, it’s a bit complicated. I want everyone to think moderately similar and be able to talk their differences peacefully. Unlike our current political system of “Louder Man Is More Intelligent”. Of course this goes without saying that there must be an unbalance in our world of Chaos. And when a natural scale gets out of balance, bad stuff seems to happen. A lot. Especially to me. E.g.: Me being happy immediately turns into a car hitting me in the kneecaps. But I have to realize that life is just going to suck for those hoping for it to get better. Luck only seeks people who don’t need it. And for the people that do? Well, luck gets to show up on your front door and wrongfully accuse of of public nudity, public intoxication, and fornicating with his daughter. Excuse me sir, I didn’t do any of those one things separately.
My personality is that of a simpleton. My mind spans over several different ones. Most of them are that of simpletons. The spectrum crosses several domains from psychopathic to kind. Oops, I meant kind as in kind of psychopathic. It’s not that I have trouble feeling. I just have trouble feeling anything for you. And if, perchance, I was to actually care enough to feel troubled by your problems, seek help immediately from your mental institution.
This article isn’t actually meant to be funny. But good for you that you came. Because I only merely need your attention, for I feed off of it like a vampire sucking an infants veins dry.

Laughing is great. (And you'll get none of it here.)

As a well-respected demi-god, son of Jupiter and whatever my mother’s name is, I am obligated to first inform you of how very not well-respected I am by humans (and sometimes animals) and how easily I yelp in pain when my scrotum is hit by a woman at a bar, a woman in an alley screaming, “Please stop touching me or I’ll hurt you,” (pfft, woman aren’t real people), or a transvestite doing one of the aforementioned things. As we’re having this delightful conversation, you’re probably thinking, “Wow. This guy must suck at pulling anything into his pants,” at which point I’d have to tell you that you’d be wrong. Dead wrong. So dead wrong, you wouldn’t even know that I pulled dead things to give me fellatio had you not provoked it. Yes, this is your fault. You wanted to inquire about how empty my sex life is and SURPRISE!
Moving on to more other non-disgusting things: I hate you. Nah, let me rephrase: I really, really, really hate you. (1)”Why MS? Why do you hate me so much? We barely know each other!” / (2)”I FUCKING HATE YOU TOO ASSHOLE.”
(1) Because I’m a shy person and you were supposed to create conversation with me, to which I befriend you by berating you. Ahh. Classic comradery. (<- FB squiggly lines this because it also hates you and hate the idea of friendships and also hates real words.) Also, if we got to know each other, you’d end up spewing a line of opinion that would irk me to abrupt your opinion with how stupid you are for not having classic left-wing morals. So there. You’d hate me at the end. =D
(2) Hey, I like you already. Let’s get together, make some ramen, and waste our lives away trolling WoW, telling other people who barely bought the game how ridiculously noob-y they are.
In conclusion, if you laughed at this, you have a really, really low standard of humor to which I shadowed over it, strangled it with the tail of a mouse, and then made love to it’s dead body. If you managed to laugh out loud, after I made love to your humor, I stabbed it in the neck, tossed the body into a swamp and watch as ducks try to rape every hole your humor had (presumably it was a female rather than a tranny), and roast it and eat it (because Asian stereotypes will never go away).
I applaud you if you didn’t laugh. Because this isn’t funny. It may contain shock value, but no hilarity. So congratulations. You win a metaphorical cookie that I made with the flesh of others’ humor.