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"Drintr: How far are you willing to go to be named "The Rook?"
Mattzarella: I will make out with Endersshadow, but I don't think I would go to third base.
Drintr: Don't know him well enough?
Matzarella: He told me he was saving himself for Jaood."
-Drintr


Act like you know me some more thx :o)
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Author:SlingsNArrows
IP:bgm-24-9XXXX
Date: 10/16/00 08:10
Game Type: Other
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Lifetime Rating for SlingsNArrows: 6.2000
I'm a relative no name, with no game. CynicalMagician and his Battle Reports got me interested in battle reports.com and Wisest~Yoda and ProtectorOfAiur got me interested in playing star craft as a thinking game. Thanks to them, I know a few of you, and I'm known by a few more of you.

Well, at least you seem to think I know you. I'll be chilling in channel "Clan ~nohunters" and some person on a screen name I have never seen before will say "hi slings" and start chatting me up. Now that, my friends, is a weird feeling. I'm sitting there whispering who is commands and feeling guilty that I have no clue who the hell this is. Usually it turns out I've never met them.

The regularity with which that situation occurs made me think. I like some of my online friends. Hell, I even care about what one or two of you think. (When I'm in a good mood) But the truth is, I don't know any of you. I will probably never see any of you except for col and perhaps one or two others. I probably wouldn't want to know most of you. Hell, if I could get my hands on bob I'd make him squeal in ways T Mac never could. Of course... T Mac was probably worried about Bob's life, right? heh. But online I can actually stand bob long enough to listen to his low end redneck brand humor and enjoy it. The benefits of the net, no?

Anyways, what I am getting at is this. I'm gonna type my life story in this submit box. Read it if you like. Maybe it will give you a different perspective on the people you know nothing about.

BTW, Limp, this one's for you man. Hope you come back and check it out ;o)

1982, August 27th, around 4 AM.: Vincent Peter W. was born in Cowansville, Quebec during a massive power outage caused by an electrical storm. Thank god for emergency generators because the birth was not pretty. I was born to Ann. No father was known. She went into convulsions of some sort several weeks before I was due. Best guess is that the mixed shock of snorting cocaine, drinking, doing a little speed, and a good swift punch in the stomach from some man helped me pop out just a little early.

Fine with me, I'm guessing that it wasn't too pleasant in there anyways. I was born with fedal alchohol syndrome. I was also born addicted to crack. This was at the beginning of the medical scare over crack babies. Doctors claimed that children born addicted to crack would grow up void of all emotional ties, remorseless and uncaring, willing to do anything and unable to feel pain. If I wasn't born to an American mother I might have ended up in a research program, a lot of the children born in my situation that year did. Both countries felt they needed to get a handle on what these abominations of children would be.

Thankfully my grandparents with the help of a snazzy IBM lawyer fixed that and secured dual citizenship for me. That's right, I'm a canuck and a stinking American too. So, I went to live with my grandparents. She babysat me once alone. Her boyfriend called ( I am told) and so she left me alone by the pool. I could get around by this point, and I ended up in the pool. My uncle, I am also told, dived from the roof outside his window and got me above water just in time. Crazy story? yeah. Several more instances like that occured because she legally had the right to take me away from my grandparents whenever she wanted. There was an incident including me in a walker and a flight of stairs too. Hell, as the story goes, babies bounce.

Around this time my uncle goes through a depression. I guess he had a rough life. When he was 12 he had to clean up blood my mother ( who was 15 or 16) got all over the bathroom so that his grandmother wouldn't see it while my grandparents took my mother to the hospital. She had beaten her head against the wall in a fit of rage. Anyways, he started taking steroids and god knows what else. He disappears from out story from about now.

When I turned three IBM transferred my grandparents back to America, New York to be exact. My mother stayed in Canada but happily sent me along with them. I was ok with that, I mean, home is where the heart is, and I prefered my heart beating even then apparently cause I loved my grandparents a lot. So I came to America, and made friends. But my mother still had legal custody, so I couldn't get immunizations because the doctors wouldn't let me without parental consent and she couldn't be found. Then, on my third Christmas my mother appeared. She had a boyfriend named Dominique with her and they were getting married. Dominique "loved" me because I was her son.

Christmas presents? Hells no, we're going to Canada. And so we did, and my grandparents wept. Well first we went to live with Dominique's parents. Nice people. I begins to remember things now. Always ate mash potatoes. Nice mother, nice father, he was huge. He worked construction. Dominique had two younger brothers. They were twins and about 15 at that time. They were also very nice to me. I later found out that Dominique abused both of his brothers without his parents knowledge. They both became gay, and one killed himself. Neither of them ever touched me and I remember that household very vaguely but very happily. I watched Fred Penner and he sang about the purple people eater while I ate mashed potatoes. Heaven? yes.

Then Dominique decided to build a house, well... at least begin to. So we moved into a half finished house. No more mashed potatoes. Not much food at all anymore. My grandparents sent money, but I never saw it. They couldn't call anymore, the house didn't have any phone. My mother locked me out once, around march I guess. There was snow on the ground, and I had a snow suit on but it was too small so she cut off the feet, put on my slippers and sent me "out to play". I remember very clearly, a very large bird (probably just a crow as I look back) was in the tree and it scared me. I banged on the door, no good. The neighbors found me still outside in the snow, a while later. Couldn't have been long because I didn't have frostbite.

The government looked into the occurence since the neighbors called the cops. I was very thin, but healthy otherwise and I hadn't been out long enough to be damaged so nothing came of it. At this point in my life I was blonde and had a large curly head of hair. This will make some of you who have seen my straight, brown hair, laugh. I changed when I was about six.

Anyways, I had plenty of friends since all of Domique's aquaintences had many children. As far as I know, the ones I am closest with all died. Their family and ours both lived on a very busy street, but it was a country road so the speed limit was high. Our parents let us cross the street all the time. ( yes, I was three, they were between 2 and 7) I know at least one was hit and killed by a car while I lived there. Over the years I have heard ( in rare contact from Dominique parents) that the rest of them have died as well in various ways. They were all dead or MIA by the time I was nine as were their parents from Over Doses on drugs.

Well, after about 6 months of me, I guess Dominique decided he wasn't ready to be a father. He used me to smash a very large mirror and then passed out from OD. I don't remember that very well. I just remember watching my mother watch it.

So anyways, that's the last memory of Canada, next we're in America, and a judge is asking me who I want to live with. Oddly enough I say my grandparents, odd since I have no recollection of living with them before Canada. Happily enough someone actually listened to me and I end up with my grandparents.

The next few years I spend eating like mad. I gained weight so quickly that I went from being dangerously low on body fat to weighing 220 lbs in 5th grade. yes, I was around 5 ft 220 lbs. lol. And FU ALL cause I was happy that way ;o) It felt damn good. After I turned six I stopped hiding food in my bed and stuff. Old habits die hard I guess.

In America I met some really good friends. Matt Westfall for one. He's currently in a juvenile detention center for selling drugs, but he was a sweet kid. In 5th grade Johns Hopkins asked he and I to take the SATs. We both got 800s and we felt pretty dumb. (my friend, who is a highschool senior, recently got 956 on his SATs... whoa.) My other friends weren't so note worthy at this time, except that they stood by me through a lot of fights. From fifth grade on I fought constantly. In a small Catholic school you wouldn't think you'd have that many kids to fight but I didn't exactly stay to my grade.

Nobody hit me. End of story. 8th graders beat 5th graders easy right? Hell no, I'm 220 lbs bitch, I'm armored. You got nothing. Eventually you gotta run cause I punch at places you're damn scared to see get hit. Then I would follow them. I wasn't a very fast runner of course, so I walked. I never stopped until they got safe at home or turned around to try and go again. I never lost a fight until my junior year of highschool. And that was a boxing match so I had to fight fair, besides the kid is a marine now. Excuses? yes. It sucks to lose your first fight ever.

When I was in 7th grade my mother popped out another one. This time she ODed and they had to surgically remove him before his brain fried in a chemical stew. He was born slightly worse off than I was. Now though there was procedure for dealing with crack babies. You actually TAKE THEM AWAY FROM THE MOTHER. Novel concept, neh?

Around the same time, I tested for Mensa and was accepted. I only joined because I hoped they would provide me with scholarship $$$. They haven't and all considered the entire organization is pompous, egotistical, and worthless. If you don't know what it is then you are better off.

So my brother came to live with my grandparents and I. His name is Drew. We fought a long custody battle over him and won. It's almost certain that he will grow up with us although at some points we were planning on moving to a country where we would be safe from the US legal system. All of my grandparents savings were depleted in the court battle versus my mother and he free lawyer. the battle was ugly and just ended a few months ago. He's a great kid, I am one of his soccer coaches. ( he's 5) All the women love him, must be a family thing, eh?

Anyways, In eighth grade I played lacrosse. I lost around 40 lbs in 2 months. And at the end of my eigth grade school year I was asked out by my first girl. I said no, because frankly she was taller than I was, and that's just no good for slings.

Freshman year, I failed to make the soccer team so I played football. I met a lot of kids bigger than me and by my sophmore year I practiced with varsity although I played with the JVs. I never chose to play varsity because everyone on the team had lasting injuries that would haunt them for the rest of their life. No thanks. That same year I ranked 6th in the state for Mock Trial as a lawyer and ran track as a sprinter.

Then came sophmore year. Whoa, I joined stage crew and got a job as a bus boy at a local Italian restaurant. Well, that job cost me one hell of a fun Halloween. I got home around 1 am on Halloween and I was pissed at missing the night when Colleen IMed me. Up to this point my only contact with her had been at a basketball game where I called her a bitch. With nothing better to do, I talked to her for an hour or two on aim. I ended the night by giving her my number and telling her to call me.

The next day she called, we talked for maybe an hour, before I thought to myself, "You know, you haven't dated anyone yet, that looks bad. Date her for a week or two." So I asked. A few days later, while I was being stage crew for the play she was in, she said yes. Hell, that girl's a roller coaster. But all in all, what began as a publicity ploy to up the dating schedule has turned into a loving two year relationship during which I have matured more than I had ever thought possible. Oh ya, and my grandparents like her better than my brother and I combined :o(

On New Years Eves she sleeps over. It's very pleasant ;o)
Even if she does take my bed and make me sleep on the couch!$@#%$@#%#@$%^#$^#$^# lol. FU ALL! ;o)

Anyways, Junior year I got an internship at a local newspaper, and I started getting two or three articles in print weekly with a 50,000 person reader base for the paper. I felt cool and liked the job, and now it's turned into $20 and hour free lance assignments. I reported on/took pictures of everything from classical performances to girls tennis, nature walks to Oz on Ice and the Special Olympics. It's been great fun and an eye opener considering career fields.

During my junior year I was the editor of the school newspaper. But I became frustrated with how little we were allowed to mock our school. So myself and around 10 friends started an underground newspaper. Long story short, we got caught. The student council president (COLLEEN'S BROTHER?!) assaulted me, and I was threatened with expulsion and legal action if I didn't turn everyone in. I didn't, so the school just took the paper away from me. My friends came forward to bail me out ( dumb kids) and the paper was returned to me for the rest of the year.

I then decided that it was time to move on to college. I was about to, when the principal who months before tried to expel me, offered me free tuition for a year to work on the school's website. Well, free is free, and if I took APs I could get college credit and end up as starting college with sophmore status anyways, so why not?

Life is pretty good now. Over the spring and summer of 2000 I met Cynical and POA. Great fellas. In fact, a lot of you are great guys. The rest just need to get some real worries in their life to take their minds off their internet ones ;o)

This was intended to be funny, but honestly I squeezed most of the comical stuff out. I just didn't feel like it. Probably loads of grammar and typo mistakes, but who cares? I doubt many will bother to read this far anyways ;o) Have fun guys, I hope you enjoy. I feel like I left out so much, but maybe that's a good thing, neh?

Love ya Col ;o)
































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