Me? You wanna know `bout me, eh? Who are you? Where are your credentials, huh? Who the hell are you to come here and ask who I am? Where you from, the census bureau? I'm from Brooklyn, dammit! What else you wanna know? I'm thirsty, you got a drink? Yeah? Thanks. Okay, now I'll tell you all you want to know. Even stuff you may not want to know, like for instance, did you know that I have at least 5 severe beer farts every day? I'm kidding. Really 6. What else you wanna know `bout me? How I spend my days? I like throwing packets of powdered gravy at people who are waiting at the bus stop; running into libraries at midday and screaming out "BE QUIET! This is a LIBRARY!!"; and attending random weddings just to object when they ask, "If anyone sees why these two should not be married speak now or forever hold your peace." Oh! And I like holding my piece too (two and a half really). Okay? Now you'll get off my case, right?

Actually, I shouldn't be so abrasive. After all, you ARE here visiting my site and looking at it, which could mean only one thing: you have no life. That's fine with me, `cause neither do I, considering I'm the schmuck who made this; though I didn't do it alone. I had help from great people. They did it out of the kindness of their heart, and because I blackmailed them. No joke. I have a video of them taking turns giving the fellatio to a nanny goat. (It's an interesting video because at first, the goat's legs are flailing as he tries to resist, so they have to be more forceful with their fellating; but eventually the goat quiets down and lets them finish.) In return for their help I agreed to never let anyone see it...yet. How else could I have gotten them to work on this piece of elephant crap? I mean, websites, big friggin' deal! Anyone can have a website, and most do; retards, punks, criminals, terrorists, politicians, and Sesame Street all have their own websites. Not to mention the numerous people who clog up MySpace.Com with their inane self-indulgent juvenile bullshit. That reminds me, check out my MySpace page when you get a chance. I guess there are worse things than being a comedian with a website. (Like, being a comedian with a tumor, for instance.) There's lots of worse things. Marmalade salesman in Afghanistan. Professional lawn chair. Oh, and toilet bowl for hire! So having a website ain't that bad, and if you wanna know `bout me that's fine. How `bout another drink though, eh? Thanks.


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