justin

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Justin
Tiffany
Shaina
Bob

Name: Justin
Nickname(s): Radzyn; Rad; Bunny (don't ask)
What I do in the band: Bass/Vocals
Favorite Quote: "You could sell that shit on ebay"

A bit about me:
I'm going to tell you a little story about me. I'm an idiot, and as such, sometimes funny things that aren't so cool at the time (but hilarious later on) happen to me. So here's my funny story. I joined the army. You see, I was heavily involved with a psychotic chic (which is a whole different story, but I'll save that for some other time...) and I needed to get away from her. So I signed up for the Infantry. I was all about stupid shit like killing people for the fun of it back then. "WOOHOO, I'm gonna shoot me so A Rabs!!!" and shit. Well, like I said, I'm an idiot. Long story short, it turns out I'm actually a pacifist. I hate violence (except in certain cases, but being cannon fodder for the US Army is not one of them.). I went AWOL. Walked right off base. Military security is a joke. I was worried we'd actually be caught. Now that's a good laugh. We left base, but some of us had left some important documents behind. So we went to the local surplus store and bought sergeant ranks. Walked back on base, flashed out IDs, got our paperwork, hit on the super hot NCO chic, and left again. We went our separate ways. I wound up down in Florida with my Aunt. She found out I was not in fact on Leave, I was AWOL. So she turned me in. So much for "blood". Actually, she just called the cops on me. I, of course, realized I was in deep shit and took off. I was chased around a gated community from about 10 pm until 3 am the next morning, hiding in ditches and trees and nearly being eaten by a fucking alligator while attempting to hide near the river. Ten feet from freedom from this god awful yuppie community, I was caught, and nearly shot by the damn security guard. Asshole. He turned me over to the cops, who in turn gave me to the local Naval base, Jacksonville Naval Air Station, where I was to await transport back to Fort Benning, GA. So I get to the inprocessing center for the base Brig, and they asked me if I turned myself in. I, being me, say "Of course!" So I had extra privelages that apparently everyone in the Navy gets whether they're in jail or not. I got to leave base from 5 in the evening and not have to be back until roll call at 7:30 the next morning. Everybody drinks in the Navy apparently. So I left. And of course, I didn't come back. I ran around downtown fucking Jacksonville for 32 hours, traded shirts with a crack addict, befriended a gangbanger with fresh bulletholes in his side, and was nearly beaten up, raped, shot, and whatever else it is that gangs do to people. What the fuck. I ended up getting a ride with a big burly black man with gold teeth to the local truckstop, where I caught a ride back up to Ohio. Good old O-Hi-Oh. Turned myself in a month later. I went to Fort Knox. I had to cut the fucking golf course with scissors and a ruler in full combat gear in 100 degree weather and 100 % humidity for 18 hours a day, seven days a week. Finally got discharged. All I have to say is FUCK the Army, fuck the government, and fuck the apes for evolving into stupid fucking human beings. There's a LOT more to this story, but its already too long. Ask me sometime and I might tell you the rest.

On a lighter note, my favorite Splooge song is Hot Monkey Lovin'

I'd like to take this oppurtunity to thank:
My family: Even though they may not realise it, I really do appreciate all they've done for me.
My friends: You mean more to me than life itself; I love you guys.
The inventor of ducttape: 'Nuff said.
Religion: For fucking up this planet.
The Queen: For her wave.
The CIA: For providing me with pot.
And, last but not least, toast: Because I can.