This article is meant to finally provide some answers to the long-standing debate surrounding my alias; simply put, I dunno, man.
Frankly, I didn't even create the name myself. It was my sister. We were hanging out one day back in Delaware, and I was coming up with a new e-name for myself, since zach033094 wasn't cutting it. I was perplexed, conflicted, and even unsure. Then she came along and noticed I was snacking on some saltines after we had tomato soup and sandwiches. She creatively came up with the name 'zacheatscrackers', and somehow, it clicked, and it was the name I've stuck with ever since. But even I never quite got what it meant. Then, one day... it dawned on me.
The answer was right in fucking front of me, and I didn't even realize it this whole time! I swear, I must be developing super early-stage dementia. See, it's really very simple.
It all began one day when Harrison Ford was at home. He was unsure of himself and his sexuality, so he picked up some hentai from the nearest XXX shop, dressed up as a chick as seen in the picture, tied a 25 pound mini-safe to his balls, masturbated to his mint condition lamp-with-tennis-balls-glued-on-that-vaguely-looks-like-a-chick, and drove off to Taco Bell. Trust me when I said that the looks he got entirely involved raised eyebrows, dropped jaws and endless 'WTF' expressions, yet he didn't care; the man wanted to experiment, after all, give him a damn break! He ordered 5 things of Nachos Bell Grande, beat the nearest disabled child to death with a shovel he kept in his pants pocket, stole his fork and spoon, and chowed down to his heart's content with practically everyone watching him that very moment. Soon after he begun, the pain of his ball-weights became so great that his ballsack ripped in half, his pants broke down, he puked blood... and he showed how little he cared and just continued eating. Ironically, the nearest civilian remarked "what a man...".
He went up to compliment Ford, and as Ford gradually lost his manhood (his penis shortly followed the fate of his ballsack), Ford was quick to eye this particular gentleman. He was rather chubby, had an MLP shirt on, a neckbeard that practically reached his chest, arms flabbier than a preschooler that hit puberty and decided to hit the Big Macs early, had nothing approaching a tan, was greasy, and wore glasses that barely fit his head. After he complimented Ford, the latter laughed so hard that his balls somehow shot up into his body. He coughed them out onto the guy's MLP shirt, and he did probably the most embarrassing fan-gasm in existence: "LOOK AT ME, GUYS! I HAVE HARRISON FORD'S BALLS ON ME!". Ford then looked out the window in disgust as he muttered "stupid cracker..." to himself, then the bomb in his chest went off, blowing up the Taco Bell, and the combined DNA of everyone's blood and guts created numerous clones of the 'cracker', all of them shouting "CRACKERS! CRACKERS!" in unison.
The situation soon turned into something right out of 'Zombies Ate My Neighbors', as the clones went around turning the population of the world into their own kin. Soon, the entire population of the world was crackers. A man in a nursery home, who just happened to be eating clam chowder and crackers, witnessed this predicament on the news and remarked "well, blow me down like a whistle; lookit all 'dem crackerz!". His caretaker caught on and laughed her ass off.
This entire debacle, naturally, gathered the attention of the U.S. Government and Obama, the president himself. What'd he have to say?
"My fellow citizens... stop giving a fuck about this. This is disturbingly like the speed-induced fanfic fantasy of an anti-social teenager. Nothing to see here"; then karma hit him like an air gun to the balls, and the crackers somehow broke into the office and turned him into one of them. He soon changed his opinion to "My fellow citizens, praise the way of the cracker! Everyone go to your nearest Food Lion and buy every box of crackers in the vicinity!".
Soon enough, everyone did just that, and Earth itself literally began to resemble a cracker. It was quite a sight to behold. I watched CNN and found out everything... and thus, the origin of my name was revealed.
But I still didn't quite know what my name meant exactly. I decided that it was best to leave the whole thing ambiguous, since stuff like this is better deciphered through imagination.
(NOTE: No Fords, crackers, civilians or Obamas were harmed in the making of this tale. This is also obviously fictional, since Harrison Ford would never lose his manhood and clones out of other peoples' DNA isn't biologically possible, but hey, this'd still make a hell of a beer story down at the Quaker Steak & Lube)