Describe Alexander_U.E. here.
Wait, who me? Frankly, that sounds rather silly. I am one of the least likely candidates to know what sort of person I am, or at least, how I am perceived by other people. I assume that since you're here, that's likely what you're interested in. Well, you are here, so why don't you take a stab at it? It'd save me the pain of learning how to format for one. Merci beaucoup, et bonne chance.
The Wall of Vandalising
Hello! I'm not good at formatting these things either. :( I think your kitty avatar is cute, though. ^_^ - elemcee
Does that description cover everything? I thought so. - Eth-Zee/The Id
- I love it, but I think you're hiding my vandal wall with your wall of text. Hope you don't mind I moved it.
..."Alright, then." Said the Id, perched at his computer. He jammed another stack of digestives into his beak and chewed, thoughtfully. "Ask and ye shall receive...", he muttered ominously, spattering chewed bits of biscuit over his filthy keyboard as he began to type...
Alexander U.E. is an enigmatic figure. One might say that he is a man... of mystery. An international man of mystery. An International Rescue man. Of mystery.
However, they would be wrong, as Alexander U.E. has none of these qualities; he is neither a spy, nor a hitman, nor a puppet wearing blue overalls. He is a nerdy person who spends his spare time on a website documenting popular culture, and that would tell you a lot about the character of this man, so you would think. But you would be wrong! Again! Seriously, you should just stop thinking and listen.
Alexander U.E. is a Troper, with a face. And a picture of a cat, and most likely he has eyes and ears, as well. He lives in a shoe, and has several siblings, all of whom are intensely jealous of his singing ability and skill at Monopoly. Since he can't be bothered to make his own about page, I am also at liberty to divulge that he is a high-price escort, servicing the glamorous and morally depraved stars of Hollywood. His rates are satisfyingly expensive and he will perform most acts with style and vigour. Except that. And that. And th... what? Is- is that even a real thing? Didn't I tell you to be quiet? Just... just leave. Now.
...I can still see you! Go on! Vamoose!
"...And, done." said The Id, to no-one in particular, tapping out the last few words. He reviewed his work, and was pleased. This calls for a celebration, he thought. A disgusting, fetish-themed celebration. He opened several new tabs.