Aha - one of the jerk boyfriends has come to call yet again, I presume. You took your time, and are nowhere near as inventive as the last one. Your spelling and punctuation sucks as well. I ain't a public service to turn your barely comprehensible scrawl into English.
Sorry, did I rain on your little parade there? Give your gal the guts to finally call you on your crap? Or just scare you with the thought it could happen if she ever sees the computer?
And, like all futile little losers, you go the bluster route, rather than take five minutes to look at yourself and just how pathetically worthless you are.

Who am I?

I am the guy that is so confident of being a man, and having a pair of fully functioning testicles, that I can respect and admire women without feeling the need for primitive dominance displays and sad games. So confident that I don't feel the need to nail every gal in sight, as if they are counters in some pathetic little game. Confident enough in my overwhelming masculinity that I can show compassion from time to time without being diminished.

I am the guy who tells it like it is - because that is how I roll. You don't like it. A lot of the gals don't like it. Tough. It's my beat. It is what I do. Why I was picked for this job.

I am the guy who can kick your ass up one side and down the other without breaking a sweat. Who will happily snap your spine and piss on you as you lay in the gutter in the rain, if you disrespect a woman - or if you annoy me. And you are really starting to annoy me.

Does that answer your question?