All I have to say about this current mess is What... The... Slag. A Starscream who's as weak as a wet Wednesday and seriously needs to grow a spine, a Ratchet who is actually calm and reasonable under fire, and a Mirage... well, I haven't seen enough of this Mirage to say anything about him yet, but I bet he's messed up in some major way as well.

And my brother is about as useful as he always is, which is to say, absolutely no use at all. Slagging idiot. STOP LAUGHING ALREADY, YOU GLITCH.

... So my slagging brother decided to get a slagging journal, for whatever mad reason... and of course, he had to incessantly, endlessly nag me until I got one as well. Slagging pain in the aft. Don't expect me to post much though - I have better things to do with my time. Like beat the ever-loving scrap out of Sideswipe until he shuts the hell up.

Anyway. Introductions. Sunstreaker, Autobot warrior, blah blah whatever, Primus. I'm not only the best fighter the Autobots have, but the best-looking mech on -either- side. Ignore anything anyone, especially Tracks, says to the contrary - they're just jealous of my physical perfection.

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a certain twin I need to try and beat some sense into. Again.