myOtaku.com: Alasathor

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Gender
• Male
Location
• Earth. Florida, the shittiest place since Utah. Punta Gorda. A town of rednecks and old people.
Member Since
• 2004-06-01
Occupation
• Ass whooper. Owner of all. Jerk, asshole, and prick.
Real Name
• John The Greatest Thing Ever

Personal

Achievements
• Succesfully pissed off a really devout nun, hinduist, and buddhist monk.
Anime Fan Since
• I am not a japanese cartoon fan.
Favorite Anime
• What did I just tell you dumbass?
Goals
• Be richer than you, figure out where my socks go while cleaning them.
Hobbies
• Toungue sharpening, writing, making fun of angsty teens.
Talents
• Arguing, insulting, am reasonably good fencer, amatuer boxer, and quality bullshit debunker.

myOtaku.com: Alasathor

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Home for the holidays./ Band sucks and the kids cannot act.
I got sprung from Florida for a while over Thanksgiving. Went to New York. Saw my little brother's Thanksgiving recital. Prior to the Incident, let me explain how eager I was to go to this thing.
Mother "John, do not tell me you forgot about his recital!"
Me, "Of course not Mom. I thought of lots of reasons I can't go." I actually had a hand written list. Well, that plan fell apart like a cheap Chinese bicycle. We get to the recital. Typical first grade crap fest. See, I am not like this just on my website thing. I have a habit of speaking my mind wherever I am. A recital is a bad place to scream,
"Quit clapping you dolts! The band sucks and none of those kids can act!"
Five minutes later, the coach and me were in the schoolyard in a fistfight. I shall spare the small details, suffice to say that I got the shit beat out of me. That was not the end of it, not by far. Mother comes running out twenty minutes later, grabs me, pulls me to my feet, and shouts for me to run. About thirty angry dads were spilling out of the auditorium, thirsting for my blood. Fearing using my robot pirate ninjas of death as that would attract unneccesary police attention, I ran like hell, hopped in my car, and escaped. Was that the end of it? Hell no! The police got involved. You really feel like an asshole, sitting in holding cell in New York with a bunch of real, hardened criminals, discussing what you did. Them; murder, robbery, gun crimes, assault, drug charges (largest number), and public nudity. Me, I made fun of some kids and got my ass beat by some coach. Fun Thanksgiving for me.
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