1. I kiss my car’s
ceiling when I go through a yellow light.
This stems from an incident in high school when I flew through a
“yellow” light (it was red. Like, bright
red. And I totally ran it. Again, sorry insurance agent!) I didn’t kiss the ceiling that night because
I pre-occupied with the thought of the Oreo Blizzard I was about to snag from
the DQ. Cue another color of lights in
my rear view, and I was pulled over by the 5-0 for the first time in my short
driving career. I didn’t get a ticket
(so many tears. Real ones. I thought my life was over at one point. I wasn’t a very rational child.) I contemplated not telling my parents but
decided to anyway. After the obligatory,
“Drive better or else” speech, we all went on our merry ways (mine was a bit
merrier due to the fact that I wasn’t in jail, a valid fear after getting
pulled over for a traffic violation.)
Turns out a couple of days later some nosy whore of a person called our
house to casually mention to my mother that she noticed I got pulled over the
other night. My mother smugly replied
that she knew already and wished the whore a good day. I wished several other things upon her, but
one thing is for certain – I now kiss the ceiling. That’s just good advice for life.
2. I have voices and
characters for all of our cats. Yes, we
have 3 cats, which is apparently shocking to some, especially our prostitute of
a neighbor (she really looked at me and said, “WHOA!” with a look of shock on
her face when I told her. I wanted to
yell “Hooker!” and run away, but refrained.)
Mooney, named for Keith Moon because he looks kinda dopey, has an
appropriately dopey voice. Gibson, the
fattest cat I’ve ever seen, also has an appropriately fat voice. Kibby is just a little snobby and I’m fond of
making her say, “Screw you guys! UGH!!!”
when she runs off after shoving her butt in your face. All this is to say that “talking” for my
animals should probably be kept to myself, but I don’t and it’s probably a
habit that makes someone cringe.
3. I’m still not
entirely sure what “dubstep” means. I
could Google it, I’m sure, but I just don’t care that much.
4. I once ate
potpourri. And it wasn’t on a dare. I was curious.
5. I f'ing love puns. I especially like
mangling people’s names – for example, our friend Brock has been my phone as
Brocktopus, Brock Star and Brock Pot while my co-worker Dan has become Danakin
Skywalker or Peter Dan Peanut Butter. I
have a problem and I’m not willing to fix it anytime soon. Now, please welcome to the stage, Farty
Robbins!
6. I like to eat with
my hands. It began early, with me
shoveling peas in my mouth by the handful.
It’s now progressed to me picking up clumps of mac-n-cheese and all
other manner of foods that should probably be eaten with a fork and not really
caring about the stranger casting dirty looks at me (I pretend that it’s a look
of disdain for eating with my hands, not the fact that I stole their food while
they were in the bathroom.)
7. Favorite phrases
of mine include:
- ‘Almost’ only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades.
- She went through that like Sherman through Georgia.
- Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.
- (Just insert a string of various curse words here. I have a mouth that would make a sailor blush.)
- ‘Almost’ only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades.
- She went through that like Sherman through Georgia.
- Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.
- (Just insert a string of various curse words here. I have a mouth that would make a sailor blush.)
you don't wanna know what dupstep means. despite being a nonpracticing catholic- i can affirm it is the devil's music.
ReplyDeleteThis only affirms my decision to be too lazy to Google it. The IT guy at work probably shakes his head at my Internet activity as it is - no need to get the Lord of Darkness involved!
ReplyDelete