Sup faggots. I found it strange a few minutes ago that I didn't have a description in the 'description' box, so I thought I'd fill this up. Now I don't have none of that fancy artwork, describing me or anything, but I don't see that that really matters. I get my point across, you move onto the next profile, and life goes on. You'll forget all of my hard work (or the hard work I commissioned) in five minutes or so, so I see no point to go to the trouble.
NOW. Back to the issue at hand. You want to know about me, neh? Well why would you go to such lengths as to click my sexy Bakura gif in spam or wherever else you may see it? You want to find out more about me and my failure awesomeness, correct? Well. Let's see what all I'm going to tell you. I'm not gonna do an unoriginal fake out of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, like most half assed fail trolls like to do.
Well... Hm. Where should I start about the epic life of Tracy? Ah, maybe there. In case you fucktards haven't realized it yet, 'ycart' = Tracy. SEE IT? No? Still not yet? AH, there you go. Good job. And the 59? A pointless number, but my name feels incomplete without it. In case you don't like math, 1993 = I'm sixteenseventeen now, bitchesSWEET SNOWMAN JESUS, I'M LEGAL Oh my god, I'm nineteen already? I'm not disappointed to say that I'm a shut in, but some people think I should be. Meh. I live in the middle of Illinois, where the corn is the greatest sight you're gonna see. I dream of someday leaving America before Mother Russia comes for me and moving it on up to Canada, eh. When I'm there, I have no idea what I'll do, where I'll go, and who I'll talk to, but that'll be taken care of later. My usual habits consist of staying up for days at a time without requiring/wanting sleep. I'm not insomniac, I just like feeling crazy. Mostly because I am.
How did I get my start in anime, you ask? It all started one day when an old friend of mine shoved a DVD of the first four episodes of Death Note in my face, demanding that I watch the epicness. I asked, "What is this Chinese shit you're trying to force me to endure?" She then punched me and walked off. So, reluctantly, I sat down and watched this weeaboo animation. And I enjoyed it. When I returned the DVD, she informed me that L dies in the middle of the series. She then punched me and walked off, to leave me in my sorrow of this devastating news. The situation escalated into what I am today, a spammer hiding back my true weeaboo form, with enough power to kill your mother.
My current job right now is taking care of my son Alex. He was born May 21st, 2009. He is mine and Gypsy's love child. Unfortunately, we had to turn our Sex Room into his room, but it's a small price to pay for your slave child.
If you've read that whole thing, congrats. You get a cookie.
For the TL;DR version: Shut the hell up and get off of my profile, you fucking stalker.