Well, where oh where do I begin? Drat, I'm not good at these things. First thing's first. Well, no, last thing's first; I feel like being contrary. So, good day, my newest friends. I'll hopefully be seeing quite a few of your display pictures often. Anyhoo, first thing's second, I guess. Er, my name is Wilson, Wilson Edward Burrough, greetings. I'm ever so excited to meet you, type to you, all of you.* I possess a number of strange tendencies, I think. No, no, they are quite odd. If not odd in a broader sense, than at least perceived that way by -at their honest admissions- those around me. One of them, for example, involves my habitual adopting of fictional personas. It's fun, really, adds that extra kick to my day. At this very moment I'm Wilson from Bradford. Hola once again and charmed again, I'm sure. But tomorrow I could be . . . oh, let's say, Italian-American New Yorker, Marcus Bellamy, a man whose one goal in life is seeing his only son sprout and bloom from the dirt of abject squalor. Another trait generally construed as strange by my mates is the perpetual need for seclusion I so often feel. I don't right see what's so bloody queer about it myself, but alas, I've digressed.* There are a number of things I enjoy and an even greater number of things I don't particularly care for. Care to thumb through a few?* I dislike snot-nosed piss-stains, pardon my cursing, who unnecessarily disrespect their elders. Oh really, lad, your mum buys you a laptop and she's a "twat" for not getting an Acer? Those little wankers, you know the type, need to be shoved in a puddle of cat sick.* Know what else bothers me? Minis, hate the bloody things, hate 'em. They're just so . . . awkward and not in a good way either, more a five shades past hideous way. That is, of course, my own personal opinion. To the arse-heads out there, I beg of you, don't pitch a fit. In all seriousness, that's might just be what we need. Yep, a bleeding forum holocaust is all anyone needs, ever. Bare with me, there's only one other thing I want to add to this list.* Ahem, so, the other day I was sitting in the library with a few of the lads. It was nothing big, the usual, pissing around, chatting about books we loathe when my ears are suddenly met by a nasally lass a table over saying to her friend, "Ash, what's this mean?"* Of course, I thought nothing of it, -some words are unfamiliar, some are long and intimidating-, that is, until her friend asked, "Really Helen, you haven't a clue as to what "obtuse" means?" I face-palmed.* Her friend, now haughty, exclaimed in one of those whispers that really isn't a whisper, you know the ones, "Not all of us are book-losers!" Her friend, without missing a beat, dryly told her, "Not all of us piss away our educations in favor of sleeping in class and shagging the teacher."* To say I was utterly dumbfounded would have been a statement nominated for the Most Obvious Hogwash Ever Spoken-award. The girl, Helen, didn't deny it. That had me even more flabbergasted. My mates were roaring with laughter, and I sat in my seat groaning, exasperated with the world. I hate, I reiterate, hate, women, no . . ., people like that. I fancy myself as a fantastical author of surreal psychological-horrors. I am prone to somewhat contrarian ideals concerning my writings. I don't usually have a set goal for my characters. I tell a story from moments in their, the characters, lives. I then compress the stories together. I firmly believe the world isn't as black and white as some think, as such, my writing adheres not to tropes as outdated as protagonists and antagonists. Though, my characters could be considered antagonists towards each other. In the real world, people do what they feel. None are right and none are wrong, thanks to conflicting opinions. Those are my thoughts about the world. Those are my thoughts about my personally-created worlds, as well. My apologies I offer, if my ideals radically differ from yours and my expressing of them culminated in me offending you in some way. So, last thing's first, first thing's second. So, how about I make the second thing last? Gents and ladies, ahem, how are you this fine morning? I fair quite well.