User Profile

Michael Czajak, that's me... survivor of Sunnydale High class of 1999. And frankly, I'd like to say that getting out of Sunnydale - and living out of Sunnydale - has been the best few years of my life. It's sort of like that trip to my uncle's in Mexico, except with more dancing and breasts. That's right, Sunnydale guys get women. Well, a woman. My wife, Tamara. And let me tell you, she's great. She's like the fighter to my mage. She used to live in Sunnydale, too, doing something big, secret, and governmental. Makes sense to me, what with everything else evil and nasty sort of squatting there. She left, after her brother died, and apparently while she was out he got turned into a big cyberdemon (like the one from Doom, actually, complete with a minigun and rocket launcher ... who says the government is big on creative? They just ripped off their idea from a damn video game. Okay, the spike on the arm was a twist, but COME ON!) ... Lost my train of thought. Well, anyhow. Sunnydale sucks. That's all you need to know about it. Well, that, and if you go there, it's like drinking the water in Mexico -- you'll bleed from the ass, and/or die.

Oh. And thanks to my wonderful work with Ballet West, and my background, they've asked me to take a promotion. A promotion to where? Why, to Sunnydale, to open their new dance studio! Yay! I'm just so freaking happy I could choke myself. Of course, Tamara's all psyched about the opportunity to own our own house -- so many people die in Sunnydale that real estate rates are great. If I were rich, I'd buy half the damn town and sell it to yuppies from Los Angeles who want to 'escape the bustle of the busy city' or some stupid crap like that. ... I'm wandering again, aren't I? Well, it's my freaking bio, I can wander when I want, where I want, how I want. And if you don't like it, you can stick it so far up your rectum that you'll be smelling your own dumbassery for weeks.

So yeah. I'm taking the job. I don't exactly want to lose everything I've worked for... (not least, my life, wife, and such)... and I've survived Sunnydale before. I can do it again.

Besides, maybe Tamara won't mind my practicing magic so much if there's a genuine reason to be on the alert... ... oh, who am I kidding. I don't like this one bit. But at least maybe I can check in on a few old friends, see if they haven't had their vital organs removed lately, or if they have, if they're still conversational.

That's Sunnydale for you. Unpre-freakin-dictable.


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( OOC journal: wizardofaus )

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