That's what it's all about

While my uterine lining does the hokey-pokey, my psyche is tottering drunkenly down the thin line separating bubbliness and blinding rage. It's not doing wonders for anyone at home who are all poised like rabbits. So I hide behind my online alterego, a pirate called Fruitloop, who's days are spent haunting the taproom in search of people to swordfight. I know, there's probably too much similarity between us for her to be considered an alterego. Ooh.