Mining. The final frontier for humankind. Beating the shit out of inanimate objects, and selling them for profit, it is 4:30 am, not the time to be typing a bio... but i am. Why? Because i can. I am running a kick ass corporation geared towards newer players. We are chill as shit... if we where allowed to smoke hookahs in space stations i would. That should be a fucking object in this game.

Sitting in a beutifull gallente lounge, with an elegant hookah and a chilled base, with one hose sticking out I take a puff. As the cool misted vapor recedes down my throat my heartbeat stops and my breath is held... I exhale, and the world around me resumes. The white cloud rises from my mouth as I stare at it as if it holds the wonders of the universe in it. The cloud of smoke disapears, as I simutaneously close my eyes. I fall asleep, at peace, knowing my corporation and the members in it are working as hard as I am, and are currently laying asleep safley in their hangers.