Have you ever had the fantasy of starting your own country? One where you could make the rules and only the people you like could get in? If you're anything like Alex, of course you have, because you're a geek and nobody likes you. Well guess what poindexter somebody actually did it. Meet Paddy Roy Bates, founder and Prince of Sealand:

Background:
Fort Roughs Tower was built during WWII as a platform for anti-aircraft guns and was abandoned shortly after America decided it was done smacking nazis around. The tower was left to rot until September 2nd, 1967. That's when Paddy decided that he needed somewhere to broadcast his pirate radio station Radio Essex, and took over the joint. After realizing that he had shitty taste in music, Paddy boy gave up the pirate radio gig for a new job: prince of his own damn country: Sealand.
And the history of Sealand starts off peacefully. But a little more than a year later a British Navy ship entered the territory of Sealand. Prince Paddy did the only thing a badass pretend monarch could do, HE FIRED SHOTS AT THE BRITISH FUCKING NAVY.
So then there was some legal nonsense which is boring, and then he draws up a constitution and whatever.
THEN. In August of '78 some Dutchmen came to Sealand on some business. And being asshole Dutchmen and seeing that Paddy was out for a bit, they tried to take over Sealand and take Paddy's son hostage. Dicks. Paddy came flying in on helicopters, retook his country, and held the Dutchmen as prisoners of war. TRUE STORY.
TODAY:
Sealand survives economically based solely on the basis of its awesomeness. The Pirate Bay tried to buy it but couldn't raise the $1 billion Paddy wants for it. (duh) Sealand issues coins and stamps and a ton of fake passports. You can buy yourself titles for you and your family. You can be a duke, dutchess, lord, or lady of sealand for like $15. In sports, the Sealand team were the 2008 world champions of egg tossing, pretty good for being smaller than a tennis court. Michael Martelle brought home the silver medal at the World Cup of Kung Fu for Sealand. Which means that at least 1 out of 27 people from Sealand can totally kick your ass.

check it out for yourself:
http://www.sealandgov.org

Behold, the face of the iron clad savior. Born from a molten forged womb, bound with the souls of the fallen societies throughout history, she eats the rocks of wisdom and drags her hind quarters across the grounds of the un-funnie babies. She has the mass of the universe in her stomach, swaying in the northern winds of the Valkyries, and eyes as cold as the 9th world of mist and shenanigans. She speaks to her fellow gods on her own separate phone line, paid for with the gold coins of her labors, awarded by part time endeavors at Lisa Frank enterprises. Every 3rd month of the calendar year, she travels swiftly to Cancun frontlines, consuming any and all beverages presented, at the otherworldly gathering of spring break. Her body crashing into the pools sounds the horns of 2,000 dying soldiers, mixed with a really fucking big explosion. Her armor is bedazzled with gem stones and rainbow sprinkly-tee hee's in custom fashions of her medieval traditions, intimidating all who confront her. Fascinated by long divison, present has single handedly solved world hunger and the supposed goblin immunity to humanly weapong. Awarded 3 nobel prizes for going to taco bell, her reputation precedes her ancient Roman ancestors. She is the heart of the wicked and well, and the brains of all who encounter her.

Behold, the face of Present.

MEPTCDYAMM

Midnight eagle, put that chainsaw down. You're a madman!