~I had a baby turtle,~ ~Its name was Tiny Tim!~ ~I sat it in the bathtub to see if it would swim!~ ~It drank up all the water,~ ~It ate up all the soap.~ ~Now its home; sick in bed,~ ~And with bubbles in its throat,~ BURP. Hi there~ *tries to think of interesting things to say* Why is it whenever someone asks to type or write out a summary about themselves, they go completely brain dead? It would be so nice to be completely narcissistic and ramble mambo jumbo like: "Oh hai, I'm Ronald Phizzlebucket the Second. I like pineapples and diaper lasers; but only in the color periwinkle. Oh hey, useless fact #728119 of useless bullshit you don't need to know but will for some reason remember late at night when you're trying to sleep 40 years from now: *deep breath from run on sentence* Did you know that the color blue, since we're talking about Periwinkle and all, was made into a famous pop art by a Yves Klein. Which makes me think of underwear. I don't like underwear. It's a wedgie master of mass destruction. Like Bruce Lee.... without the awesome. Or the bad movie props." But nooOOOooo. Not Sable. That would be too easy. Speaking of easy... I like lemons. Cause you know, easy-peasy lemon squeezy? I've heard it all my life but it wasn't until Austin Power's dad on Goldmember said it that I was suddenly like... "Do I like lemons? Do I really?" Micheal Caine just does that to a person. Makes them question their life. Their motives. That's why I want to be Batman. Actually, scratch that. I want to the NightWing. Screw you Micheal Caine. I do what I want. And that includes like lemons. And apples.