Once there was a flying saucer. From whereabouts unknown it neared our planet, dove through our atmosphere, and descended upon the state of Machusetts in the fabled land of the Americas, landing just long enough to drop off, inexplicably, a screaming newborn human boy before vanishing into the heavens as quickly as it had arrived. It was not long before the wailing infant was soon approached by a travelling circus caravan. Stopping in their tracks, startled at their discovery, among them a lady with beard as soft and white as silk made her way to the front of the pack and bid the others keep back. Approaching the child cautiously, she bent down on one knee (for that was all she had, you see), gently picked up the child and raised him on high. "This child will one day grow to be... short." The wide-eyed company behind her stared up at her spellbound, hinging on her words to come, for you see she was not only their resident bearded lady, but their ringleader, fortune teller, and collossus as well. (It was actually a very small circus. Also, her pegleg was merely due to misfortune.) "He shall also be clever, but sometimes naive; shy, but highly affable; musical yet not by profession. He shall grow strong from toil, but have difficulty helping friends move their dressers & credenzas. He shall be known as precisely that which he will be... a Jaerivus." The company of odd performance artists gasped in awe of... whatever a Jaerivus might be. A decrepit shaman with a nose bedecked of red sponge dared approach the bearded prognostic collossus carnie-matriarch. Eyeing the Jaerivus, one bent and withered trembling hand lifted slowly towards the infant's head, and the shaman wheezed: "Hereby shall I regale him with three powers which will distinguish him as greater than human. Three arcane traits with which he is to conquer the world: He shall be capable of sleeping at whim, and for days on end; His luck with the fairer sex shall be chronicled by that of misfortune save that he be ironically adored by all their parents; And-- unto the people he serves shall he be--" The shaman here fell limp and lifeless to the ground. The large bearded lady with half a wooden bat for a shin scrunched up her face and peered back at the people in her employ. "Who the hell was that guy?" The ideny of the fallen mystic with crap for superpower gifts is still unknown to this day, as is his third revelation, but one thing is known for certain: I am the Jaerivus. And these are my superpowers.