Spliffster Cliffster is as greasy a meatball dago wop guido guinea greaseball as they come. Cliffster's hash cash and canteen green come from an Insurance Agency which he spends non-ROOF time at. My Porno stash includes Club, Club Confidential, Swank, Miscellaneous Italian pornographic materials (Il Meglio di Hard 2000) and Videographic excerps from the Spice Channel and Playboy. I am in a rock band Just Tart and can probably hustle you out of a couple of bucks on a pool table (Darren, when I get my $50 then you can talk). Both of these activities have been known to assimilate quite nicely with getting more sloshed than a boozer, more wasted than charity, more shit-faced than a shit-face and more fucked up than a scrawny wasp walking through Bed Stuy with a "All Niggers Must Die" sign. My father was a fucking drunk bastard, and thanks to ROOF I can carry on his esteemed legacy. Alcohol caused my parents' divorce, and subsequently the imminent danger of my abortion. It is an honor to obtain alcohol illegally and engage in potentially hazardous activities with detrimental impacts on the health of my brain and liver. As an underage drinker, I would like to thank ROOF and God for fake ID's, lazy Jamaican Bodega clerks, bums looking for a couple of bucks, and hippie losers which understand the predicament of the underage drinker. May ROOF kill more brain cells and continue to intoxicate and alter our minds harmfully, dangerously, drastically, excessively, and above all responsibly.