"Each player of this game starts with the '6 weird things about you'. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog."
Six Jacked-Up Things about Lightning Bug's Butt
1) I use a Sonicare electric toothbrush. The unit automatically shuts off after 2 minutes. I like to go for more than 2-minutes (the wife would argue with that.) Anyway, I have a compulsion to power down the toothbrush manually before the second 2-minute interval concludes – otherwise I fear I'll develop a terrible disease. I've never failed to remember to turn the Sonicare off in time, and I've used it for 3 years. I realize how irrational this is. I don't really believe a toothbrush timer is going to give me cancer or something. But God forbid I let the thing run and then develop a horrible disease coincidentally. I can't spend the rest of my life – however short it may be – wondering whether I could have prevented it by following the rules.
2) I'm pleased with my image in the mirror, but I'm appalled at most photos of myself. I secretly hope that the mirror is more truthful than the camera. But I doubt it. Everybody else looks as good or better on film than they do in real life. Why would I be any different?
3) I live in constant fear of scorpions. I cannot enter a room until I have adequate light to examine the floors. I violently crush and shake my shoes and slippers before wearing them. Every blemish on the floors and walls that I spot with the corner of my eye is a potential threat. I often wake in a panic having dreamed about scorpions. Sometimes I awake slapping my chest or legs or wherever I dreamed the scorpion to be. It takes me several minutes to convince myself the arachnid isn't real. And get this crap: once I forced myself to step on a blemish in the carpeting, telling myself that it's NEVER a scorpion, so stop obsessing. I was in bare feet. Long story short: it was a goddamn scorpion. The one time in HUNDREDS that I assume everything is all right, it's not. The scorpion didn't sting me. But it didn't die, either. I weigh almost 200 pounds. I had to hunt it down and strike it 3 times with a shoe before it succumbed. Rugged bastards, those scorpions. That event changed my life forever. It taught me that all those little worries that never materialize (so you should just stop worrying) become reality the minute you dare dismiss them. Fucked me up, man. It made me a chronic neurotic.
4) I don't want to die. But sometimes a lack of obligation, consequence, worry and a privation of the senses sounds refreshing. Knowing that it will all end one day is very soothing. It gives me a perverted, smug satisfaction that one day soon, I won't have to give a damn and that I can return to that peaceful, 100-million-year slumber so rudely interrupted in 1971.
5) I stopped maturing at 12. Other than taking an interest in the opposite sex, I haven't changed since childhood. As a teen and then as a young adult, I assumed one day the aging process would instill a decent work ethic and a sense of responsibility. I figured a codified adult mentality would “kick-in” at some point. I'm in my mid-30s and I'm still waiting. My biggest priorities are still: sleeping in, dodging work and responsibility, watching TV, surfing the Net, scoring good meals and dessert, playing games, working out, hanging out, wasting time and doing as little as possible. No joke, people. Honest Indian. Mind you, I don't just long to do these things. I actually DO them. I've worked part-time most of my adult life, including my present job. I still watch cartoons. I still eat candy. I still play with toys. I still contemplate what I want to be when I grow older. Between leisure time and a chance to earn more money, I'll take leisure every damn time. I've tried, but I can't give a damn about adult stuff. Who gives a shit about careers, productivity, mortgages and retirement funds, really? Fuck that shit. In fact, these things bring about the sentiments in #4, above.
6) I hate, HATE loud noises. I despise TV commercials because they raise the volume to obnoxious levels. Go ahead and bullshit me, Mr. Advertiser; just stop screaming at me, jagoff. I hate the sound of a telephone ring. Must it be so loud and ugly? Must it sound so suddenly, without warning? I hate lawnmowers and leaf blowers and car horns and jet planes and popping balloons. I hate anything that makes too much noise. You can always choose what to look at, but you can't choose what to hear. So any unpleasant noise is an invasion of my privacy. Loud noise robs me of my tranquility. Strangely, I enjoy the sound of traffic off in the distance, when it's quiet. In fact, that's my favorite sound.
Tag: All my Blogger Idols (Big Daddy Dave Morris, Latigo Flint, Blog Ho, Tornwordo, Miss Cellania and Rizzle Dizzle Riss).