Post by BRADLEY WADE GLENN on Dec 29, 2010 17:07:25 GMT
( BRADLEY WADE GLENN )
THE ROLEPLAYER THE ROLEPLAYER
THE ROLEPLAYER THE ROLEPLAYER
My name is BROOKE and I happen to be very much a female. I've been roleplaying for nearly 8 years and I'm 20 years old. I live in Georgia in Eastern Standard Time (EST). I also play the likes of Mr. Damian Seth Ritter!
THE BASICS THE BASICS THE BASICS
My name is Bradley Wade Glenn, youngsters. I don't really care what people call me just so long as it ain't slang for, pussy or has the word fuck in it anywhere. Most people tend to call me Brad, but I'm not a huge fan of that either. Oh - and don't call me Mr. Glenn either.. makes me feel older than I am. Speaking of age! Funny how that just comes up, right? Well, I'm 41 years old and I can pretty much tell you I'm a hipster from the era, you hear? I'm a bit on the bi-sexual side, though I tend to lean toward women. My job in this lovely lovely place is to be a therapist and guide these rambunctious youngsters to a better place or whatever. If you can't tell by now, I'm pretty much a guy. I got some feminine tendencies, but what macho-man doesn't?! Some people tell me that I look like Butch Walker, but they have to be about messed up in the head - - - or hitting the wine pretty hard. That man is so much more attractive than me.
THE PERSONALITY THE PERSONALITY
Alrighty, now let me tell ya, I'm a pretty simple old coot. I like my ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC YEAH! Any time you give me donuts, coffee, or twizzlers - - - I will be in a LOT better mood. I like watching romance movies (in private of course), comedy movies, and playing my lovely guitar. I also enjoy my job, even though it can be pretty rough at times.
Just so you know, I don't like being called old or reminded that I am old. Only I can call myself old. Don't touch my guitar. My baby is off limits to anyone who is NOT me. I'm not a huge fan of talking about myself. Oh, and never EVER EVER talk to me about spiders, snakes, or moose. Spiders reek of evil, snakes are too cunning to actually be reptiles (they have to be demonic with those beady little eyes that stare into your soul), and moose... well, they're just freakishly huge. It's just not right.
I aim mostly to be the best therapist that I can be, though that's proving to be a bit harder than I thought it would. Also, though I had my music career already, I would honestly love to go back to music and make it bigger than I already had. Being a therapist is important to me, but so is music. Sometimes it is really difficult for me to choose which one would be better to be in. So far, though, being a therapist has won out.
For the most part I'm a pretty easy-going guy. I'm chilled out, and I don't make a big deal about things. Judging patients is not something that I do - - no matter what they have done. I have a bit of a different style about therapy. It is relatively easy for me to connect to people and I can honestly say that I'm pretty much a social butterfly... like a social Monarch! Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think that I happen to be funny! Get this, get this: THE MAN SOLD HIS CAR FOR GAS MONEY! Man I crack myself up.
Of course, I'm not all good. I tend to be overly lazy and I drink too much. In my defense, it is hard to tell a good cut off when drinking wine. I sometimes come off a bit more hardcore than I intend to and I don't really have that professional look about me. I didn't really think I needed the professional look, but I like to think I wear the "in denial about my age" look very well.
Sadly, I tend to do rather stupid things for an old man. I drink more than I should, ride motorcycles, and I own a pair of leather pants. I mean it's cool because I think people naturally assume I'm half hippy because I grew up in the late 60s and early 70s. Haha, they would actually be right, though. I'm an effin hippy if ever I saw one. In fact, I would name my kids something stupid if I ever had any.... just to be like I'M DIFFERENT FUCKYEAH!
THE HISTORY THE HISTORY THE HISTORY
The likes of Atlanta, Georgia was glad to have me: NOT! I was born to a pair of pretty uptight people on October 12, 1969. My father owned a small chain of laundromats and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. My mother was a closet hippy. As soon as my father stepped out she would break out her hoop earrings and her bell-bottom pants and her tye-dyed shirts. While I was just a baby she would leave me unattended to go out and smoke pot with her friends or drop acid or whatever she did. I wasn't really old enough to care that she did that. The point was that I wasn't old enough to talk and Dad would never find out. I'm sure if he had my mother would have been in for a beating for sure.
As I grew up my father began to get a little more strict with me. He would yell at me much more often for little things. My father wasn't concerned with what I wanted to do - - he was concerned with how much money I would make in the future. My father really pushed me in school. Fs resulted in beatings and so did Ds and Cs. Bs just resulted in a harsh grounding. I was forced to join the football team. That wasn't what I wanted to do. Football wasn't my cup of tea, but apparently I was an okay running back. It didn't matter how good I was because I just didn't want to do it. I hated football and I really really wanted to get into music. After trying out my luck with National Honor Society and debate team, I met a girl named Alicia.
Alicia was the love of my life. Even though we were so young and only in high school, I loved her with all of my heart. She was all I had ever wanted in a woman. We dated until our senior year, when I had to go and be an idiot and follow my dreams. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I pulled Alicia aside at a football game and told her that I wanted to go to California to live out my dream of being a musician. I asked her if she would go with me and she said that she would think about it. Even though I was nowhere near happy with her answer, well, I allowed it. A day later she called and said that she would meet me at our favorite playground. When I walked up she was sitting in a swing, clutching a tape in her hands. As soon as I was close enough she stood, kissed me, handed me the tape, and said goodbye.
I was heartbroken, but a part of me knew that California was where I needed to be. As I boarded the plane my best friend, Alicia's brother, was there- - but she was nowhere to be seen. I bid my farewells and left for California. I had no idea how hard things would be when I got to California. I was broke, hungry, and I spent a lot of nights sleeping in my car because I couldn't afford a hotel room or even a motel room. Some nights I had to put on my best boots and hold up a sign just to see if I could get some gas money. Eventually I managed to get together a band that I was proud of. I had a new best friend in by bassist, Keith Thomas. We finally picked up a label, produced a hit song, and then got dropped. Once again we hit financial rock bottom. Thankfully, it wasn't long before ANOTHER label picked us up. It went much the same way, though--- hit song, then drop.
After that I decided to take my career solo for a while. I played here and there, but mostly I wrote songs for other musicians, which as my luck would have it, became hit songs for them. I decided, after I made a little more money, that I would return to Atlanta for a bit. I returned at the wrong time because I got recruited to serve in the Gulf War. I found out Alicia's brother, and my best friend, Blake Halloway, had also signed up. We were together for the most part. Training was difficult, but I managed to get through it with the help of Blake. It wasn't until we were transferred to Kuwait that things got really intense. That was the first time I had ever been close to a bomb going off. I tried to make it alright, but I found it difficult to keep up with the increased pace.
Two months after our transfer date Blake and I were moving with the convoy up to a new location. There was an unmanned vehicle out in the sand and we were chosen to go check it out. As Blake and I got closer to the vehicle it exploded. A piece of shrapnel lodged in Blake's heart, killing him instantly. A piece of it hit my leg, but only broke it. I was shipped back to America with the corpse of my best friend. The only keepsakes I had from him were the bullets from a gun that he never had the honor to use. To this day I have the pack of cigarettes he bought for me along with the necklace I made of the bullets. I miss him dreadfully.
After that I decided that I needed to get into therapy. For some reason I just couldn't move past his death. It was while I attended therapy that I realized that I wanted to be a therapist. So I went to college. I made it through with no problems. Actually, because I put so many hours in - - I finished early. My first actual job was with a rehabilitation clinic for young people with drug problems. That worked out great until one of the patients decided to hit on me. Not cool. I had nothing to do with her, but I got fired and it was really hard to find a job after that, but I finally found a job wit an asylum. I was able to get them to see the truth, thankfully.
THE CREDIT THE CREDIT THE CREDIT
this application was made by the wonderful miaday parade and is not to be used anywhere else by anyone! it's been adjusted slightly from the old knives + pens application from the previous site.
