User:Cheburashka
 | This article's factual accuracy is disputed. |
 | This user is using a web browser. |
Yeah, you guessed accurately. It's me, ladies and gents. I'm in the picture below, the one wearing the sambenito. Don't let the cute face fool you.
.jpg)
Это я, ⓘ.
Grant me a few moments, please, to make these introductory remarks.
First and foremost: Jackdaws love my big sphinx of quartz.
Regarding my formative years
[edit]Back in high school I was socially awkward and it was horrible.
Everybody loved going down to the ropes course in the woods. Except, you may guess, me. When I traversed the zip line, a draught of wind did something strange to my gym shorts. Suddenly my dick came flopping out, visible to all who'd assembled at the instructor's shrill beckoning to "cheer" me on. Since I am so scrawny, pants never fit me properly and this sort of thing happens to me a lot. Normally what I do when the penis escapes from the side is deftly stuff everything back into my pants and, if I'm quick enough about it, nobody's the wiser... but this time I was harnessed in. There was nothing I could do but flail my arms helplessly. Even worse, the one who was appointed to slow my precipitous descent was frozen stock-still in mute astonishment. He gaped in a stiff and glassy way, as of a horse with tetanus. I went zooming past him and slammed straight into a great wide tree with force enough to shake it resoundingly, from highest sun-seeking leaves all down to the girth of its very bole. Gentle forest birds took to hasty flight at the noise as they do when something bad is going to happen, or some grisly, horrifying creature draws near -- one of ragged claws, dripping fangs and cold shadows!
But, I'm getting away from my main theme here. Back in high school, I was socially awkward and it was horrible. In between getting beat up by jocks and turned down by girls I scarcely had any time left for listening to the music which provided such a soothing balm during those awful years. Yes, the sweet, sad songs of Lashcord Decompressional. What mellifluous, soulful lyrics flowed from the tongue of Julius Magnacarta. And there was the puzzling, introspective compositions of Sideband Cephalon. But even more than that, I also had my special friends... I recall them fondly... There was Milton... and Ludamila... and Gaius... and User talk:62.171.194.42... and of course even the elusive foreigner !4"+/,,$#. We were all socially awkward so we formed a special and unique clique. We would get together to paint and draw, and make flip books showing stick figures getting their heads chopped off. It was like a holy alliance of freakish and abnormal people who found solace in each other's company to escape the abuse. Damn. Who ever thought of such a thing? One particular episode...
I would do well to also mention that
[edit]I am very serious about my health, and to that end I follow a strict fitness method. That is, to chase small children and other flightless birds; and, on capture, to hoist their forms severally above my person and pitch them into a crag.