NEW! What you never knew about Voldo!

This diary reveals what you never knew about that peculiar 50 year old Italian guy (who has bad fashion, wears tight clothes, and hisses.)

Voldo's Diary

Day 1: I just tied a gag around my mouth because it looks cool. I guess that was pretty stupid, considering that it will impede my ability to communicate like a normal person. No Wait! I'm not a normal person….I'm just someone who likes to hiss at people…So its ok now I guess.

Day 2: Went to party, participated in a dance contest. I'm pretty limber and I decided to do the worm and play limbo. My mad dancing and limbo skills were pretty impressive to people. The only thing that they criticized was my clothes, said they were too tight and revealed "a little too much" of my body. I disagree. If anything, I could show them a little more, hint hint.

Day 3: Watched news coverage (presented by a blonde Elvis Presley-like gentleman with nunchakus) of some missing metal piece of junk called "soul edge". What is it? Is it literally the edge of a soul or something? Seriously dude, sometimes I wonder about these weapons and junk.

Day 6: I totally rescind the statement I made on day 3 of my diary. That remarkable soul edge is the bomb. I want it. It can impart me with an unfathomable degree of power and strength (maybe enough strength to untie this stupid cloth from my mouth…it hurts like hell!).

Day 8: It turns out that this missing "Soul Edge" that I saw on the news was in bedroom the entire time. Don't I feel smart now. How could I be the wielder of soul edge and now even realize it? My possession of this sword should have been blatantly obvious when I killed 431 people with 2 minutes.

Day 11: Thanks diary. You're the best because you understand everything that I sayJ. No one seems to understand my hissing noises except for my pet cat and cobra.

Day 14: It turns out that the dad of some German dude wants his weapon back. Well, that's too bad because the soul edge is my friend. It likes me. It talks to me in a rude, acerbic manner….but it still likes me, doesn't it? I'm so alone. (I then mumble "bitchy sword" under my breath).

Day 15: I am going to beat the crap out of that stupid soul edge. It keeps commenting on my clothing. Look. I know I may look and dress "a little out there". But my name is Voldo for God's sake. I was destined to be a masked, spandex/cloth-wearing weirdo.

Day 17: Oh damn. That German dude's dad appears to be entering my living room. Oh, and there he goes. Stealing my DVD player and my PS2 game collection (which includes Soul Calibur 3). That's it. He has crossed the line. No one touches the treasures of Namco.

Day 18: I feel like such a wimp. That dude beat the living day lights out of me and took that bitchy sword. Oh well. At least I have my awesome sense of fashion.

Day 20: I watched some competitive dance show on some popular TV network that involved celebrities. I like this show because my dream was to be a dancer-at least before I engaged in wanton killing. That's why I am so limber. I guess I just followed the wrong path. I killed an entire village of people. Oh wait…I have nothing to excuse my murderous tendencies anymore because the Soul Edge is in Nightmare's hands now.

Why is that "rock formation with a rapidly beating heart" standing outside my window? Oh wait. That's just charade-that mo fo.

Day 21: Charade an I went out for a few drinks last night. I'm still suffering from a hang over. Am I gay? Sorry…I was reading the topic for today's episode of Dr. Phil.

Day 23: I like pasta.

Day 24: I just went on the Atkins diet today. That pasta went straight to my hips.

Day 30: I just had a massive heart attack from consuming 14 lbs of bacon. I hate this diet. And I'm gaining weight. Bacon grease doesn't exactly melt off the pounds.

Day 31: I've been so careless. I must attain this remarkable wicked-cool sword! I may in fact resemble a "Good year" blimp, but that's too bad! I have more important things to do right now than consult a cardiologist about my failing heart. Wow. I just realized how important life really is. What is my bastard son going to do if he doesn't have me in this world to raise him? (That's right. I had a child out of wedlock! Whatcha gonna do, huh?) Ah, to hell with it. I'm finding the soul edge instead. I'm probably not the baby-daddy anyway.

Day 32: Began my journey to find this impolite, snobby sword. I ran into some British chick apparently wearing an amour wonder bra and a tight leotard that looked very uncomfortable. She also had short silver hair (and I thought that I looked weird). In spite of her strange characteristics, we had a nice conversation. She said that her father looked like an evil version of Captain Crunch, you know….that old guy on the cereal box. In my "hiss snake/cat language", I informed her that I had most likely killed my dad in battle-surprisingly she understood me. We both laughed and cried together, sharing our most precious moments. After this, she explained that she had to take back her chain-whip from this moderately attractive Japanese chick (who needed a serious boob lift and/or bra).

Day 34: That silver-haired British chick really stymied my efforts to find that darn sword. But I still wonder if her dad has an endless supply of that delicious Captain Crunch cereal. I just love its peanut-buttery goodness.

Day 39: I traveled to some Western European country where people have weird accents and speak a not-so pretty language. Italian is much better-more romantic, less intimidating, less guttural. One who speaks Italian is less likely to spit on the person in front of him/her because it's such a silky smooth language. One who speaks German….well…you know-it's that "not-so-pretty" language that I told you about.

Day 42: Nightmare thinks that he's so cool with his amour and his soul-draining powers. Well, I'll show him and his harsh German accent.

Day 45: I've been practicing some fight moves. I'm sure you've seen the one where my body curls into a circular shape, which thereby allows me to roll on the ground like wheel. If you haven't seen me perform this trick, feel free to buy the video game and see it. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Day 47: I tried to do that fancy move today and I almost broke my darn spine. I'm getting too old for this.

Day 49: I have now confirmed that I am a bumbling idiot. I approached Nightmare today, and I attempted to do that fancy "back-breaking" move on him. Unfortunately, I didn't have a plan B. I am now permanently paralyzed. Damn it.

Day 51: It turns out that I am not paralyzed. I just slipped a few discs in my back. I'm having a procedure tomorrow.

Day 52: I'm having my surgery today. I met the surgeon and I'm now convinced that I'm gay. Sorry….I was reading the title of a new Fox Network show. Anyway, I met the surgeon, and he's convinced that he's soooo hot. He thinks he's so cool with his French accent, blonde goatee, and extremely arched eyebrows.

He kept asking me about my choice of attire. I wrote him a message explaining that I like to show of my hot-bod and buns of steel-don't act as if you've never taken a second look at my impeccable physique on "profile" under" Museum mode" on that videogame you most likely own.

Day 53: That surgeon was really Raphael?

Day 60: Raphael isn't really a surgeon?

Day 67: I paid an arrogant Frenchman to fix my back?

Day 68: Maxi is gay?

Day 69: Siegfried isn't really a girl? He's just a hot blonde guy with long, golden flowing hair?

Day 70: After having these epiphanies, I never trusted another unlicensed surgeon or a blonde guy with an Elvis Presley haircut. I also distrusted blonde German men that I believed to be girls.

Day 71: My back needs to recover. I'll start writing again in a few weeks. Stayed tuned to read more about my unsuccessful journey to find Soul Edge. Toodles!

Stay tuned for the diaries of Siegfried, Ivy, Cervantes, Zasalamel, Taki, Raphael, Maxi, and much much more. Feel free to give me suggestions and ideas for future diariesJ.