Who am I?

I’m the currently the brain cell world champion you ♥♥♥♥♥♥. For I am Sir Flidan, the Malevolent Being of Those who want their brains to be ♥♥♥♥♥♥ by my quickest of wits.

Let’s review. For one, my brain is in my skull. So not even my brain could connect with this thing, which is baffling. Why is it a mirror? What purpose does it serve? This brain of mine is not tied to anything except my own pocket. Why is it limited in form? I am more than human and I can have anything I can think of in this place. I have an athletic skill set, incredible strength, and a devil-may-care attitude. All of this in my skull of me. Why is this not necessary? It doesn’t seem to support anything and it’s always gonna
be staring me down, reminding me of the things I’m not.

“i love dead space 3” is one of my most famous quotes this side of the Mediterranean Sea and has started a blood crazed religion known as demitrucucism . It involves rituals, sacrifice, and eating warm blood soaked rolls of expired United Fruit Rolled Submarine Twinkies. There’s not much more to it other than that. You know, big ‘ol Dan and Dan do a huge rumor bit about it. He did his best to do the whole Demitrucucism bit for that story. And like the good student he is, Dan spit out the entire story at the last minute, pretending that it was merely a small piece of a much larger thing, when the large thing is a long stretch of the story he’s been churning out for almost four decades. As of this moment, he’s sitting alone in a café in Madrid. He’s silently washing his hands while the world goes about it’s day, unaware of his overall message. He took the message in and then decided to hide from it, because we live in such a big world. His message isn’t going to be told, it’s just going to keep hanging in the air waiting for the right person to pick it up and relay it. He’s not going to be part of this world, he’s going to be a passing on. He didn’t really have a plan when he sat down to drink that last coffee of the day. He was just going to do his thing. And I respect that.

Pardon my rambling, now where was I??? I remember, I’ll ♥♥♥♥ you up fruitcake, you ♥♥♥♥♥. My name is Flidan and I’m the only person you can deal with. I don’t want to talk to you, you don’t want to talk to me, but don’t worry, I’m an alien. That’s right, I am the only one who talks in xenophobic slurs and can get away with it because I’m a literally alien ♥♥♥♥♥. With your puny humans brains and puny, useless nerves, I will crush you like a kitten with an axe and leave your body as a pile of trash. That’s a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ dope rhyme and might be the last words you’ll ever hear when I’m done with you. On second thoughts, I revoke that last sentence, as your last words will be pitiful like those big ass clown shoes you’re wearing. They look like an anaconda devoured a cantaloupe.

Back to the topic at hand, me; I’m super cool, like Donkey Kong levels of cool. The coolness flows through my veins, because I’m Flidan. Yes I’ll repeat it, I’m Flidan and I’m the only person you can deal with. You will fear me and I will laugh at you in your life. I have a genetic advantage that the rest of you can’t touch. Yes, you beta male I am at the top of the food chain of coolness alongside Clint Eastwood and Daniel Day Lewis. I define the hierarchy and you’ll soon see that I hold the power of the coolness. Your turn ons will be no longer than anyone else’s except for the likes of Steven Segal, Robert Downey Jr, and 50 Cent. For the rest of you, I’ll make sure your hot, lifeless bodies will linger in one place and I’ll steal all of your music and clothes for my collection, while reading your thoughts. I’ll even take away your voice and put a jackhammer inside of your vocal chords, so it will be impossible for you to communicate with the outside world. The end.