Justin Lawrence Combs was born at least two decades ago, probably more... I'm pretty sure not three. When he was born the doctor said, "Well Mr. Combs, we meet at last... Time to die." This nonsensical comment ended in the unfortunate doctor being disbarred or whatever, which led to his eventual suicide; doctors are lame like that. As a young child, Justin often would play with dolls and stuff. This wasn't because he was gay but rather because all children at that age are stupid and will play with anything *Parent Tip: Yes expectant mothers and some-how-not-expectant-enough-for-their-pregnant-wives-husbands, this means that your precious child is, in a way, retarded. Don't worry too much; they might grow out of it. You can stop being ashamed of them later when they learn that it’s not ok to put knives in their their mouths and get a job. This takes time, be patient. To help speed up the process, I suggest letting them dress themselves, and then laughing at them and take pictures and holding on to them until they are turning twenty-one and bringing the photos out and telling them, "Son, I'm glad you're not retarded any more. Look at all the people laughing at you in this picture. Your mother and I were laughing so hard in this one, I could barely set up the camera” or telling them that that one guy on that TV show they like (Thunder Cats, for instance) is not a brave leader of cat people, but rather a cunningly disguised cartoon that pretends to have real emotions and real bravery . * Anyway... Justin grew up and got a Job. One day he was walking down the corridor at his work spot when his boss approached him. "Justin me lad, care to join your old boss in a drink." To which Justin replied, "Gee golly Mr. Vengeance, I sure do like cool aid! Joining you in a drink would be swell! I got my own with me, see?" "Right-o me boyo," said the boss as he eyed Justin skeptically, "Cool aid... that’s what I be drinking. Here Lad, let me Irish that up for you a bit." Then Justin became a rampant alcoholic. One night he was drunk back in his room/house and thought to himself, "Hmmm... Maybe I can fit this whole pencil in my eye." The doctor said would have to wear an eye patch the rest of his life. When he saw that Justin was sad about this he said, "Sigh...an eye patch... just like a pirate." This made Justin super happy and super-overconfident. The next day when he was at a convention (probably one of those awesome conventions that I'm still super jealous about; I mean, wow... what kind of job sends you to Comicon every year? Lucky jerk) he thought it would be a good idea to get his picture taken. And then he did. At that moment Justin decided to stop being an alcoholic and to instead get a cyborg eye implant. The surgery was a success. He is now living quite comfortably awaiting his next cyborg implant; probably some sort of cyborg chest thingy that makes a cool robot sound and opens up on command and a robot arm extends and combs his beard/goatee, or something suave like that, while a robo-voice hums the tune of "pomp and circumstance". Lucky jerk.