User:Iamthelumberjack

Lumberjacks are one hell of a race. Although in movies and any good old fashioned fairy tale they are considered bad people or what not -I really don't know how lumberjacks are portrayed- most of them are potentially nice and as cuddly as a big fluffy teddy bear filled with cotton candy. I on the other hand, am just basically more than typically awesome. With my outstanding lumberjacking skills and amazingly good looks, I managed to end up living on the streets in a box. What's cool about this box, is that it's made out of the wood I chopped while being a damn lumberjack. Besides not having to pay for anything, this box comes in handy when I wanna take the women home. Homeless women love upgrading from cardboard to wooden boxes.

Originally, I grew up in a forest. I was with my father, Paul Bunyan and Babe the Big Ol' Blue Ox. On occasion my dad would give me severe beatings because I enjoyed stealing Babe. Sometime time during the year 2000, when I was 5 years old, my dad decided it would be funny to kick me out of my own tree fort. So I stole his ax (Babe was dead at this point) and started chopping down the tree that he was sleeping inside of. Once that was done I started chopping more trees and building my first nice wooden box. With my box successfully built, I decided to live in peace in the woods. Soon after people started noticing my box and coming to visit me more and more often. Apparently the authorities don't like 5 year olds with axes running around state parks making wooden boxes out of the trees. That was just the start of my problems.

Now that I'm 18 I've matured quite a bit. Although most people don't listen when I tell them, I have actually gained quite a bit of friends. Even if most of these friends are more messed up in the head than I am, they've helped me with a lot of problems. I think the biggest way they helped me is by breaking me out of rehab (I was sent for my chopping down trees addiction.) The day I got out of rehab, I moved to the middle of a forest in South America and chopped half of it down. When I moved back to North America I had enough wood being sent back to build more than enough boxes to live in. Once I was almost out of wood I built one final box and kept it. I moved into the city with my boxes placing them on random streets and back alleys. And yes, it does happen, sometimes I get to one of my many homes (boxes) and there is someone else living there. Needless to say they get kicked out immediately and put back on the street. (Sorry) On occasion vehicles get pissed that I decide to set my house down in the middle of the road but they eventually get over it. If they don't, I generally move it. Mainly because I don't want my boxes ran over; but partially because I'm a big cuddly fluffy teddy bear.