I'd offer you a seat but you're likely already in one. I'd offer you a drink but I don't know if you're of age. So... I'll offer you some pixels.
Who am I? Well, let's see.
I make marsupials cry. Especially wombats.
I shot both JFK and JR, know where Hoffa is, invented New Coke, and told Mary Kate and Ashley they could act. I am personally and directly responsible for the French. I throw rabid chinchillas into retirement home socials. I switched the decaf for regular. I wear briefs. I have a sea monkey named Clive.
I instruct small children in the finer points of armpit-music. I tear the tags off mattresses, mark heavy packages C.O.D., and have an extensive collection of Gone With The Wind memorial plates.
I invented AOL's marketing campaign, genetically engineered Bill Gates, and sold off my controlling share of Mac stock when investors were nervous. I wrote Verant's "Vision" and promptly began negotiations with Sony.
One word: Teletubbies.
I wipe my arse with holy texts, corrupt nuns into posing for Playboy, tell Sunday school children about the virtues of Ayn Rand, and can belch 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic'.
I am an interesting shade of rhubarb.
I format the 37th disk of 38-disk installs. I am the fly in the ointment, the bee in the bonnet, and the ants at the picnic.
I am the reason American beer sucks, and why they cancelled Punky Brewster but let The Facts of Life wallow for several seasons.
I make colors run in the wash, sweaters shrink in the dryer, and socks disappear at will. I made sure that human males only had enough blood to run one 'important' organ at a time. I invented corduroy slacks for chubby children.
I wrote Britney Spears' songs. I convinced Barry Manilow and Tom Jones to redo old Beatles hits. I scratched your CDs before you bought them.
I know how many licks it takes to get to the center of the tootsie roll pop.
And I love you all.