I’m 22 years old I’m a tough guy I’m the guy who makes everyone lock the door at night, I’m dirty I got a foul mouth and a bad temper I only drink to excess and I look for fights where ever I can find them…hell before everyone started playing nice for the war I was the one who sent scabs to the hospital and I tried to cross a picket…so you don’t need to be hanging around with me sweetheart you got no more business talking to me than a man on the moon and the year is currently **1940’s** cold