My appearance is something that can be described to those reading this, but I think it would be much more fun to tell you what I do not look like. You can guess for yourself on these.

I do not have orange hair, nor do I have grey, pink, black, or white hair.
I do not have twelve inch long feet, but they're not two inches long either.
I am not seven feet tall, nor am I four foot tall.
My age is between ten and forty-six, where in between you will never know.
I do not have a criminal record, but it is not spotless either.
My job is not to kill people, but it is also not delivering pizza to seventeen-year-old idiots.

My personality is something that can't be described, but something that can be perceived. What I am like I can't tell you, you'll have to figure it out for yourself. However, there are some aspects of myself that I can warn you about.

I tend to be very blunt at times.
I am terrible at comforting people, so I might not be the best person to come to with problems.
I hate pop music. Don't talk to me about One Direction or Miley Cyrus.
You may hate me or like me, whichever it is isn't my problem. If you don't like something I do or say keep it to yourself (unless I say something offensive to you).

That's all.
May the force be with you.
So long and goodnight.
Hasta la vista, baby.

Oh, and by the way...

The future is bulletproof!
The aftermath is secondary!
It's time to do it now and do it loud!
Killjoys, make some noise!

<><><><><><><>

Right here, right now
All the way in Battery City
Little children raise their open filthy palms
Like tiny daggers up to heaven
And all the Juvee Halls, and the ritalin rats
Ask angels made from neon and fucking garbage
Scream out! What will save us?
And the sky opened up...

Language...