ChrisIsMeChris
Christopher M
Bay Area, United States 
Member Since: Sep 19, 2008
Last Login: Nov 26, 2009
Profile Views: 910
Points: 114
Status: New Short Story due tomorrow!!!!! (17 days ago)
Birthday: Jan 1, 1987
Occupation: Networking Security Intern
About Me:
I'm the best person I know. Nobody is half as great as me. I'm faster, smarter, cooler, better looking, and more popular than you are. My clothes smell nicer than yours, because I don't use dirty dish water for detergent. My skin smells of things that you want to smell, regardless of gender. I can sing better than you or any of your family members. And did I mention I'm smarter than your whole family, too? I can rap, sing, hum, and play any instrument my hands can hold. I kick ass. I pack hookah bowls that go for 5 generations and I punch through TV's like they were made of melting glue. My teeth reflect moonshine. I sell moonshine. I'm a world-renowned actor and my all of my films get platinums. My latest flick: Oh Man I Didn't See That You Were Naked But Am Not Really Turned Off By The Idea is a masterpiece. And of course it is; I wrote it. I write better than anybody I know and my stories are way better than the broken nursery rhymes you write and when you sing them you just make babies cry in their cribs and then the parents walk in and fire you and you're like Shit! That babysitting job was my entire plan for the next 5-10 years because I suck and I walk in the room, carrying the baby because I can do magic tricks and I'm like Hey dude/awesome chick you should have this 100 dollar bill because I have so many of them and then I give you back the baby and dive through a window. I also use my time efficiently and effectively. People tell me I'm great at making lists, too. In fact, I probably make lists way better than you. Or anybody in your family. And I'm smarter than your family, too. I play dodgeball....really well. I can throw better, dodge better, and catch the ball better than anyone. In fact, I could probably take on your entire family. I sit on rocks and relax. I'm calm. Unreasonably calm. I work out. I'm ripped. I can bench press the combined weight of all your friends. I'm neurotic and I love to pace. I used to pace alot. But if I wanted to, I could pace more than you can. I play chess well. Really well. You can bring over your friends and practice the game everyspare moment that you get (and I know you do) and you'll still never beat me. I'll beat you, your friends, and all your family. My hair is amazing. I get compliments on it incessantly. People admire me and tell me they'd die under my command. People worship me. They respect me. They fear my power and they fear my lists. But most of all, they fear me. I love pie and eat it for all 3 meals of the day. I play chess really well. And my About Me's make people furious, because they read the whole thing when they should be studying for their lame ass college classes and they're like Holy Shit this Chris guy is almost as awesome on paper as he seems in real life and I'm pathetic by comparison! But I'm already in the room, patting you on the back and letting you know that it's Ok to be mortal. Most people are...
The End.
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I'm mortal. I'm embarrassingly average and mediocre. When I try to do even the most pathetic of tasks I fail and collapse and spontaneously combust, only I don't even have a hot fire, but a lowly pile of cold and rubble that makes homeless people even more cold when they try to huddle by it. I've never successfully performed a single task in my entire life and I suck and I'm a failure and I'm horrible. My breath stinks and I bathe myself in dirty dish water and I use my time terribly and never have time to pace. I am failure. I sell failure. One time I had to watch this baby for this couple and they came home and the baby was crying and I tried to soothe its pain with a song but instead of a sweet lullaby it came out horrible and broken like some kind of hellish choir of broken nursery rhymes and then you walked in the room carrying the baby and you spat on me and I accepted it because it was the high point of my life in that instant. Then I jumped out a window and broke both my arms. One time I tried to write something on facebook and I got a papercut that ended up killing every person I ever held dear. Then I pissed myself. I'm weak. Unreasonably weak. I'm weaker than your entire family. One time I tried to lift up a spoon but instead I got a papercut that killed every person I ever held dear. I get my ass kicked by deer. I pace. I pace alot. I pace frightening alot. It frightens people to watch me pace because they know I'm efficient and make excellent use of my time. My hands randomly light on fire and it hurts. I suck at chess. I'm terrible. I try to play against blind infants and I still lose because their parents beat me with spoons that leave vicious papercuts. Then I pissed myself. I eat crackers. I hate crackers. I eat crackers 3 meals a day. People who hate me get respect. They get feared for their lists. But most of all, they get feared. I'm neurotic. It's insane. I'm insane. My friends tell me "Hey Chris, there's something hanging from your nose. Oh wait, you're insane." I wrote a book once and it didn't sell a single copy and its name was Oh Wow I Didn't Realize You Were Naked There But Am Completely Turned Off By The Idea. And of course it was bad, I wrote it. When you meet me in person you're like Wow this Chris guy is as much of a terrible waste of human debris as his facebook had impressed upon me. But I'm already behind you, pissing myself. And it's alright, because not everybody can be a miserable failure.
The End.
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From the time I was born I knew I was destined for greatness. And indeed I was, for from that very point on, my life would be nothing less than a tome of endless success. Each accomplishment, though everytime nearly unimaginable in both scope and execution, still bowed out as each new event of legend unfolded. Standing above the cliffs that overlook the world in its ant-like entirety, I was now Lord of the Universe and the official representative of the peaking potential humanity had to offer. Celestial beings from the most far-reached worlds came to battle me at chess and lose. Monkeys, trained in the arts of literature and human beauty from the time they could peel a banana, were put before me and lo, I crushed their very souls in contests of fictional excellence. I could split a square into three symmetrical pieces and still wake up the next morning without a hangover. I had my devilish good looks, which all my life had cursed me with a nearly drowning amount of both male and female attention. And in those moments, I could hardly blame them, even as they crushed me with their love, for who wouldn't want to stand beside me. Who wouldn't want to know me the way that only I could truly know me, for who else sat down beside me for endless hours and drank tea? ME. I tear rainbows into pieces until their spectrum-like nature submits and streams into black and white. I make empowering comments to seagulls who have eaten plastic and aid them in a swift and forever-memorable recovery. I clean oil covered otters with my sandpaper-like tongue and spit gold. I change my middle name at will, in order to have the most impactful nickname possible, depending on the situation. I rollerblade up walls as if the whole universe were a fraud and deep down, every human being dies alone. I know, I'm deep like that. I ask the real questions. I dig up the real answers. I write the real words and speak with deep mention. My thoughts defy exception, my eyes deny intention, my heart it swells with tension. My lines divide with mention, the sky collides in pension. I try for my redemption.
Also, I am serene green.