I'm sorry, I haven't a clue - but people who saw me do it seem to have no difficulty picking me out of a police lineup. I guess they just look at me and say, yup, two eyes, two ears, a nose and a mouth, that's him, no doubt about it! I wonder how many innocent suspects have been convicted simply because, out of Earth's population of seven and a half billion, surprise, surprise, at least one other male looks a lot like him.
I imagine the method by which you incurred those scars was quite painful and traumatic, but I don't think scars are ugly. I earned everyone of mine, whether by painful injury or surgery. Battle of life scars.
Perhaps someone did try to slice your head off BH, and the trauma of the event dismissed it for all time from your mind. I am naturally lead to consider what awful atrocity you must have committed to have warranted such extreme punishment. Of course, my throwaway suggestion is just one possibility - there may be others.
I'll bet you're not as old as my friend Luke. Gosh is he ever old. I can't imagine what it'd be like for me should I to live to thirty. That's must almost be like being dead, pretty near it anyway.
Not much I am glad to say. I must say I really admire the public spiritedness of a great many career criminals in making it possible for police to effectively bypass the 'maybe its him, maybe it isn't' of ineffective witnesses, via a positive ID from the artistic, elaborate, and often unique, personal tatoos, thus allowing authority to conveniently cut through the procedural foot-dragging direct to the cells, to the courthouse, to secure confinement at the pleasure of the state.
Element 99 