User:Vermin/About

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Note: This page is the self-written biography about the online rat persona known as Vermin. For the article about the person behind the account authored by other users, see Vermin.

Author: Brian Vermin.

Hey there! I'm Brian Vermin, though most refer to me simply as Vermin. I've decided to write a little piece about myself here for my own amusement, and also for anyone who actually has the time or the care to read it.

You see, I'm not your typical rodent. I've actually got a great story to tell! I've lived a rebellious youth, an experimental adolescence, and a hardcore adult life, and I've still got plenty of years left to live it up. I've got plenty of photos from the family scrapbook to help illustrate it, too.

The critics are already raving!


   
 
Hahaha. You're a piece of work, mate, you are.
 

 
 

Linkermann, aka OtterWhiskers


   
 
I think it's fucking stupid, but whatever.
 

 
 

uberfukken, not a fan of the "furry fan fic" genre


   
 
Fixed.
 

 
 

Cobalt, after editing it to read as a homoerotic tale of incest

This tell-all autobiography will focus on those years mentioned above, as well as document some of the relationships I've had with others here on ED ever since I made it my lair. Might as well start from the beginning, right?

Childhood

Middle school... I looked so innocent back then!
I was very rebellious during my youth.
Elementary school was remembered as "the neurotic years."

I was born an only child to a pair of wild parents. My father was a popular punk rock musician, and my mother was a bartender at some local hole-in-the-wall. My father had met my mother one night while his band was playing at the dive bar she was working at.

After ending the set with his band's most famous song, he approached her and rudely demanded the strongest drink the place carried, in his typical, testosterone-fueled fashion. I'm told my mother responded to his sharp demand by pouring the requested drink over his head, and at that moment my father had instantly fallen in love with her. They would end up sneaking out together to make love in the alley behind the bar, Brian Jr. would and the rest of course is history. Brian Jr. would be begotten, and the rest of course is history.

I'm told I was a happy baby, and the constant exposure to loud punk rock music at such a tender age had already begun shaping my personality. I was also exposed to constant yelling and fighting, as my parents liked to get drunk and find any reason to curse and strike each other, apparently out of love. I swear the first words I ever spoke were "shit," "fuck," and "cunt."

A vintage photo of my dad's band rockin' the crowd.

My adolescence was spent skateboarding, headbanging to music, and smoking weed with my friends. I had a hard time fitting in at school, and only hung out with a few friends who I felt were worthy of my company. I had a few people bully me and call me a punk rock faggot, but what the hell did they know? I also had a few girlfriends, and even though the relationships didn't last long, they served their purpose of introducing me to the wonderful world of breeding.

My mum, the punk rock princess.

Around this time, I discovered my father's musical talent had apparently been passed down to me. I would sing along to some of my favorite tunes, and people around me would tell me it actually wasn't half bad. I started singing in the shower, singing on the way home from school, and singing when I was bored at home, much to my mother's chagrin. My father approved of my talent, but warned me to never get into the music business, lest I turn out like him. I looked up to my father, so I was all for it!

Unfortunately for my father, though, music for him would come to a crashing halt. His band hated each other and couldn't get along, and had begun spending more time fighting than practicing. They couldn't share drugs, they couldn't share groupies, and accusations of gambling debts had suddenly arisen out of nowhere at an alarming rate.

The cover of my father Brian Sr.'s first solo record.

The animosity eventually reached a breaking point during a live show when a flying beer bottle launched from the crowd struck the lead guitar player in the head. In an angry drunken stupor, he decided to take revenge for the unprovoked attack out on the father. Next thing you know, the ground had become a stage not for a punk rock act, but a mess of discarded instruments and sweaty brawling. The crowd decided to follow suit by bashing each other and throwing bottles and chairs all over the joint, and security was forced to put in a major effort to bring it all to a halt.

After disbanding, my dad decided to go solo, and released "Coming Up For Air," an uncharacteristically softer style of punk rock which reflected his current feelings of being without his friends and their band, which had been together off and on since their high school years.

Adolescence

My bong was my bff during my late teens.

Around this time, my parents' love life was also taking a turn for the worst. The fighting and hitting had always surpassed the love making, but now it had completely replaced it. My father would end up taking his belongings and moving into an apartment, leaving me to live with my heartbroken mum.

Now in my experimental teenage years and being directly affected by the split, I eventually discovered the wonderful world of getting high. This was soon followed by my first taste of alcohol. Suddenly I understood why my parents loved drinking so much. Every day was spent getting drunk, smoking weed, and smoking cigarettes, and of course I blamed these new hobbies on my parents for not being able to stick together for me during these important years of my life.

My dad's girlfriend while my parents were split up.

These friends who introduced me to this party life became my rat pack so to speak, and aside from getting intoxicated all the time, we also had a penchant for spraying graffiti all over the neighborhood, talking shit to random passersby, and degrading women. Only one of us actually had a mate, the rest weren't interested... except for me. I joined in on all the anti-girl jokes, but deep down inside, I wanted one badly.

These friends who introduced me to this party life became my rat pack so to speak, and aside from masturbating all the time, we also had a penchant for spraying cum all over the neighborhood, giving head to random passersby, and degrading women. Only one of us actually had a mate, the rest weren't interested... except for me. I joined in on all the anti-girl jokes, but deep down inside, I wanted one badly.

The day I became a man.

One eventful visit, my dad's girlfriend's friend was over. She too was punk rock to the core, complete with blue hair, numerous body piercings, and covered in tattoos. I was instantly drawn to her, so much so that when she introduced herself to me, I flat out shied away. She was a lot older than me, and she seemed to like the fact that she was so intimidating to an inexperienced, intoxicated 19-year-old. Long story short, my dad and his girlfriend had snuck off to the bedroom to be alone, and this left me with the intimidating punky seductress. She wasted no time in turning me into a man.

She knew it was my first time, but she didn't go easy on me. In fact, to prevent me from ruining the moment, she tied my wrists and ankles and knotted both ends to the ground, leaving me on my back, defenseless and vulnerable. I was petrified with an instant hard-on. Luckily from me, she took it easy from there, as I'm sure she wanted the moment to last more than 5 seconds. It only lasted about 5 minutes, but being young, dumb, and full of cum, I was able to give her a second, and even third round. My dad never found out about what happened, and sadly I never saw her again after that night, even though I swore I wouldn't tell.

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