|
|
NAME: {CB} Sgt. E L V I S
AKA: {CB} F*U*C*K*T*A*R*D
AGE: A month older than that brown shit on your shower tile
HEIGHT: Five foot, twelve inches - take it all, bitch
WEIGHT: I've been waiting here long enough
RESIDENCE: Behind your fucking sofa! (But I get my mail in Chicago)
GAMES PLAYED: Just DoD, until the gubment send me my Turbo-Nerd
membership card
WEAPONS OF CHOICE: MG, Rifle, a sharp stick in your freaking eye
ONE WORD TO DESCRIBE YOUR PLAYING STYLE: Zesty!
LIKES: Necrophilia, Porn, Beer, Games, Beer, Elvis Farking Presley,
More beer
DISLIKES: Oprah Winfrey. And the way the humidity makes your underwear
stick to your crotch. I really dislike that. Not to mention, Oprah
Winfrey's humid crotch. Those stupid fucking plastic sticker things
that they put on CD's so you can't open them without getting the gluey
sticky shit all over the place. MAN! I REALLY fucking hate that!!
MONEY?: It's never enough, but I hate robbing banks. Now I just mug
the elderly.
BEER?:No need, chumps. I'm a bartender. On your knees like the hoes
you are. I control the rivers of heaven.
NAPSTER?:I'm glad it's gone. It made the technology better afterward.
Sneakier P2P shit. Know what I mean, Vern?
HOW UGLY?:Beauty is in the eye of the beer-holder
INTERESTING FACTS: Nothing interesting to put here. My brain has been
floating in this jar since the gubment grew it in this lab. No,
really. I'm serious! Knock it off! It ain't that funny!!
QUOTE: Thankyou man. Thankyouverymuch!
|
|
|
