Rrawr!!

I'll be a rugged bruin. Go Bs! A vile and gnarly toothed vagabond scavenger brigand. Or a gentleman with tophat and opera glasses. I forget which. It matters not. So I'll hold the door but grab your ass. Cold and desperate I'll never be. One or the other perhaps, but never both. So hide your women from my pheromones. I go Rrawr! and make other animal sounds that are intimidating because being a Badass is a full time job. And I'm dead by the time you read this, in a sense, and the other reason you'll never guess.

For I'll still be captain of the ship: Destiny. The sun melts my aching parts and the water soothes my soul. The salted air makes lungs vital and gets on my lips. So I sail the ship. I built. No Cabin Boy on a freight. To the edge and over.