/whois Hatch`

...sorry, IRC humor. It still stands.

Age: Twenty-seven... I'm pre-eighties material. Sucks to be human.

Height: Five feet, ten inches.

Weight: Two-ten pounds. It's funny.. six or seven years ago I was hovering around 170, then I bounced up to 180 and I spent more than a year trying to atrophy and starve myself down (which seemed like the "best" plan, since I wasn't fat, and you know, exercising is for losing fat..). After being back at work and being in general more physical the last three years, my waist has gone down an inch, and I've put on thirty pounds.

Eyes and hair make me a Wehrmacht recruiting poster. I have glasses, four ear piercings and my navel pierced.

Born in Surrey, have mainly repressed memories until moving to Burnaby when eight. Coquitlam when fifteen. Finished high school in Burnaby. Dropped out of Douglas College twice. Dramatic high school trauma made more school psychologically pretty unbearable.

Religiously agnostic. Raised Christian, dabbled in Catholicism a few years ago. Still faithlessly seeking faith. Church seems a falsehood to me.

I'm a delivery driver for an aftermarket automotive cooling products company. I'm a goon who brings people radiators and condensers. My work experience and the inability of people to put a little faith into giving people a chance to succeed in anything they don't have paper for limits me to jobs where my experience at being polite to assholes is put to use. I suppose I don't technically have to work, since the government of Canada considers me permanently mentally disabled, but doing nothing is incredibly boring, and pays very little.

I don't get onto IRC much anymore. And by much, I mean basically ever. IRC has left me pretty emotionally cold, essentially friendless, and I'm sure a lot of people generally angry with me.

I've flipped through so many cars in the last couple years I wonder if I have made any progress toward having a car that's actually fast.. my Z28 is now long since gone. A horrible decision. An old Caprice, rammed an Eclipse into a building, to a shit-6 Camaro, burned out the fuel injection... full time WOT might sound fun but you get about 8mpg, to a Cavalier, that power spiked and shorted out a bunch of stuff, to a god damned Crown Vic that leaks like a mother. Cars I can't work on. Except getting half-decent sound out of all of them.. and that's pretty much just lame. Electrical work is easy, unlike electronic computer controls designed by retarded engineers.

I basically gave up gaming. Pretty much walked out on the group I'd been playing D&D with for something like seven years... and all it took was me trying to GM for them. Can't game online without ending up with assholes, or people who don't show up. Yet I still write material and hang out on d20 Modern forums. Still do some writing for Shadowrun, which I haven't played since the early days of the Village, and not since high school before that. Way to cling to the past. Filling in the time, avoiding life, as Jennifer said long ago.

Sometimes I dress up and let everyone see me walk out of the house, shrug off "where are you going" and proceed to go.. nowhere. I like to at least make other people believe I might have a life.

Some day, I'd like to see an alien. And then kill it. You shouldn't cornhole drunk hicks. Aliens probably all have some kind of freaky HIV. Hicks are like monkeys.

I read a lot. I don't.. can't play sports. Watching sports is for drunks and losers who will eventually be fat drunks and losers.

I like sharp things and fire. Because I cut and burn. Myself.

I am extremely well-adjusted, all things considered.