WITNESS ME!!

((Hello all who may read this! Nux is currently in a state of deep sleep and by that i mean he's dead.... for Halloween of course. *sweats* Since the time this blog has last been updated, Nux has received many more questions that have piled onto the old ones he never even answered; that son of a-- While he does intend to keep this blog alive, we do know how piss poor he is at. Keeping. Things. Alive. But don't worry! War boys are only dormant for the colder months when Immortan Joe forces them into so much manual labor, they cant possibly have time to persue their dreams and have fun for themselves! That's why war boys and the blogs they run cherish seasons like summer. They can finally catch a break, crash some cars in the name of Valhalla, and witness the brutally cold citadel weather of 90° rise back up to a safe 110° (Celsius, if that's what you'd like to believe). (Tldr; sorry i havent been answering things. School is suffocating and you might not see new content til the summer. I love you all and may you continue to persevere through these busy months!)

Name: Nux (Rinay) Birthday: Any day I spend kissing Immortan’s ass is a birthday to me! (Sep 11) Star Sign: Wh-- I think you mean stop sign?? (Virgo) Gender: FUKUSHIMA KAMACRAZY WAR BOY (SETTLE DOWN,NUTS!!) Height: 6′3 so.. short for a full grown tree thing (5′5 im basic af lol) Lucky Number: war boys determine their lucky numbers by counting the seconds Immortan Joe spends looking at them so right now I’m at a glorious 0.5 (no but it’s prolly 9 or some shit) Last thing I Googled: “What is Google?” (”How to determine your lucky number” lmao im pathetic, SHHH) Happy place: IN THE SHADE OF IMMORTAN’S GENEROUS SHADOW HOLY SHIT (i’ll have to agree here) Tagging: hmmmm i don’t wanna tag just anyone soooo, if you’ve taken a road trip through a fire tornado at some point within the past week, consider yourself witnessed. (or if you are wearing a shirt right now.)

I THINK I HAVE TO KILL SLIT.

COVERED ENTIRELY IN MATTE FINISH.

ok.

We may have to ask Slit’s cats, after all.

We listen to her record collection. Apparently, it belonged to her long lost relative, the “King of Rock N Roll” or something. I find that hard to believe, of course, as the real king wears a red onesie to work and the only time he’s ever “long lost” is when he tries to find a bathroom on his own.