The details of my life are quite inconsequential...very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds-pretty standard really...

Sorry, I had to.

I'm here under Evelyn Waugh...

Evelyn Waugh was a man.

I love (in absolutely no order): being oblivious, shiny things (oooo...purdy), Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Finding Nemo, acting, Back to the Future, classic rock, coffee, Ellen DeGeneres, filmmaking, my computer, Lord of the Rings, Lost in Translation, Rent, Pad Thai, fresh pineapple, playing the guitar, Spider-man, the Beatles, Love Actually, the Princess Bride, the Simpsons, theater, Usdan, When Harry Met Sally, writing...and the list continues...

Expect much randomness from me. I'm slightly off my rocker and get distracted very easily. A fatal combination, I'm afraid.

I Hate: Any combinations of Snape with tutus or Hermione. Or both. *Shudder*

I'm a good ol' fashioned Hermione/Ron, Ginny/Harry shipper. I also enjoy Lily/James fics, but NOT when the entire story involves Lily prancing around acting stuck-up or exceedingly innocent, and James behaving like a Big-Man-on-Campus player, and then at the end they spontaneously have amazing sex...because, of course, that would make PERFECT sense. Nope, not for me, no siree.

The first chapter of my very first fic is up! Soon I plan to write a parody too, so keep an eye out for that.

Well, that leaves but one important question...

WHY is the rum gone???