I’ve spent the last few days bashing my father and included a few other family members in yesterdays post, so I thought I’d turn the tables today and the point the finger at myself a little bit. As much as I hate to ruin the vision of perfection that you all have of me (let me have the dream, huh?!), I’ve got quite a few quirks of my own that a most people find bizarre. Some of them are even attractive to the opposite sex . . . until they have to live with it then apparently it’s grounds for divorce.
No, dear brother, I do not need your help with this. Just sit over there and shut it.
Probably the biggest issue I have is that I am, indeed, a Grammar Nazi. No, my grammar isn’t always perfect and I am prone to typos and misplacing or over-placing some punctuation marks. That is called human error. It is the other side of that fence that drives me insane – human ignorance. I’ll also file it under “lazy”.
- “U”, “R”, and “4” are letters and numbers, they are not words.
- Do we REALLY need to have the “there”, “their” and “they’re” conversation?
- A capital letter (that means it’s big) indicates the beginning of a sentence.
- A period is a dot that indicates the end of a sentence. It is also the thing that happens once a month when you are perfectly willing to sleep in the car but it has nothing to do with grammar.
- Text messaging is also subject to the rules of grammar.
- I should have made this post much earlier. Should have . . . should HAVE . . . SHOULD HAVE, NOT SHOULD “OF” GODDAMMIT!
It’s ok. I’ll be alright now. Just let me get a drink and I’ll be able to move on.
I clean because nobody else can do it right. My mother can clean the kitchen after dinner in about 10 minutes, and she does it well. It takes me an hour and a half because that faucet just isn’t going to polish itself and it better be so shiny that I can look into it and see the friggin’ future. One crumb on the counter is a perfectly sound reason to start over again. A single glass in the sink will keep me awake at night. Well, that and insomnia, but that glass has to be washed, dried and put away. Once I have cleaned the kitchen at the end of the day, do not enter it without a full expectation of being stalked until you leave.
Washing my car is an all day event, and then you had better not touch my windows until it’s at least been . . . fuck it, just don’t touch my windows. And as long as we’re talking about stuff on windows, my laptop is not a touch screen. Fingerprints found will be turned in to the FBI and I will find out which one of you nasty freaks put fingerprints on my laptop screen. You will be stabbed. Same thing applies to the TV screen.
Should the day come that I share a bedroom with a female again and she is kind of a slob, she is more than welcome to be a slob . . . on her side of the room. My side of the room is a slob-free zone. Heat of the moment clothes tossing is the only exception.
I am a strange breed. I am neat and not gay.
I do not drink. Anymore. I do not care if you drink, I just don’t. I have already had my share. And yours. And that of a Marine Corps Battalion. I have reached my lifetime limit. I will come with you when you do drink. I will laugh at you when you do stupid things and I will keep you out of fights. I will help you when you fall down – when I stop laughing. I didn’t push you. As far as you know. I will drive you where you want to go. I may still get a ticket, but it won’t be for drunk driving. Females automatically get to ride shotgun in case I need some cleavage to get out of the ticket.
I will take you home when you’ve had too much, and yes, I will take advantage of your drunk ass.
I have no mercy for a hangover. It’s self inflicted and I’ve had my share. Deal with it.
I despise it. I fully believe if government meetings were all held “beach casual”, they’d come to much more agreeable conclusions. I think the necktie is the dumbest fucking invention ever. It serves no purpose. No, a red tie does not indicate power. Me punching you in the face and you falling down indicates power.
Maybe I was wrong. A red tie may hide the blood.
If I am not working and being forced to wear some ridiculous uniform, I am in a T-shirt. Whether the nether (see what I did there?) regions are covered in jeans or shorts depends on the time of year and as long as my eyeballs don’t freeze open, it’s probably shorts. I prefer it this way all the time. I am a firm believer in not judging a book by its cover. Intelligence and skill can not wear a suit and tie or a fabulous dress. They do not have long hair or short hair or tattoos or no tattoos or a pierced cheek bone or whatever.
You can dress me in a $1000 suit and give me a manicure and place a nice gold watch and ring on me. I’ll still be a dick.
Yes, I like video games. I enjoy the stories and the platform they allow me to take frustrations out on. I spent several years writing about them and getting paid for it and since I’ve stopped doing that I’ve come to enjoy them even more because I don’t have to play them over and over again to get monotonous crap and take screenshots and all the other stuff those big game magazines and websites want. I can actually just sit and enjoy it. Having done that work for the big guys has taught me to appreciate the tremendous work that goes into making one and often amazing results they produce. I believe they do have a value to our kids when used properly. They teach teamwork (online co-op games) and make you think (strategy and puzzle games).
They teach you that it’s really fun to blow shit up. I can get really pissed off at the boss at work and come home and shoot a guy in the face and not wake up in jail.
Some of the greatest friends I have ever had I met on Xbox Live. We have spent weekends together, celebrate the births of new children together, we know each others wives (not in the biblical sense) and kids. We, more often than not, just get online and shoot the shit and we barely know what game we’re playing. Some of the best laughs I’ve ever had were while I was talking to those guys and girls.
I don’t believe Grand Theft Auto makes kids killers. I believe parents do.
My son has played it and his grandfather is still alive.
I’ve tried it and it hates me. It does not stop me from doing it again because I am a fucking sap. If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, then I missed the sanity bus by years.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I do not cheat and I have never raised a hand to a woman in anger. Just hearing about someone else doing it makes me furious. I once turned around to look over the seat to back out of a parking space and accidentally elbowed my ex-wife in the face and I felt guilty for a month. (She was not an ex at the time. Do not judge me for currently feeling less guilty.)
Someday I would like to get a big metal chicken.
It is the one thing that I have always loved to do, and quite frankly, I’m good at it. I have been known to do it in place of having a conversation because I can usually make it come out better in print than I can from my face. It is my therapy and it keeps me from getting all “stabby”. It is how I will tell you I love you. It is how I will tell you I hate your damn guts. It is how I will make you laugh, cry, think and dream. It is the one unique talent that I got that nobody else in my family did and it is mine and mine alone and I hang on to it with everything I have.
It will also get me arrested at some point and then I’ll be controversial! You know what controversial means . . . famous!! I’m gonna kick that Go The Fuck To Sleep guy’s ass. My father was emotionally damaging LONG before that guy was.
Now the big one – The Insomnia
It’s not so much insomnia as it is that the rest of the world has not conformed to what my idea of the right time of day is. I am at my best in the middle of the night. It is quiet and dark and there is very little around to bother me. I am quite comfortable being alone and spend quite a bit of time that way and what better time to be that way than in the middle of the night. I think more clearly and my imagination is more active. There is just way too much input going on during “normal business hours”.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being outside on a nice, clear day and I like to be around people and go to barbecues and out to enjoy the town with my friends. I am fully capable of interacting with people in a positive and productive way, it just isn’t where I am at my absolute best. I am not anti-social and a hermit, but when I have had a bad or frustrating day, I look forward to the upcoming dark.
This conflicting interest between daytime and nighttime manifests itself as the insomnia. I want to enjoy both times of day so my brain tries to stay awake for both of them. When I don’t have the benefit of Ambien to make myself go to sleep, it is not unusual for me to “skip a night” and go close to 40 hours without sleep. Those close to me know when it is a night off or not. A lot of my closest friends (many of whom are reading this) have taken to asking me “where is my blog post tonight” and to you guys and girls I just want to say 1) Thank you so much for reading and looking forward to more as you’ve done fantastic things for my ego and 2) I just usually am not going to be done typing one of these things until well after midnight because that is just when I’m at my best doing this. (I finished this post at 2:25 am, by the way)
On the outside I just look like any other mortal. A really smart, great looking, incredibly talented mortal.
Did I mention my humility?
Here are just a few “quicky quirks” to wrap this up (see what I did there?):
- I eat my food one course at a time. I start with the one that I like the least and work my way to the one I like the most.
- I don’t like chatty cashiers. I don’t like to shop and I am not interested in your Aunt Melba’s surgery and I don’t care that your husband likes that same kind of frozen pizza. Just let me pay for my shit and get the hell out of there.
- I actually like to be stuck inside because it’s raining.
- I like pizza and spaghetti and anything with tomato sauce. I don’t care if you wrap it in bacon and $100 bills and serve it on a hooker, I will not eat a tomato.
- Some days my brain is just “on” and I think of stuff I’m going to write and it just makes me laugh out loud. Sometimes in very quiet and inappropriate places, like funerals and trials.
- I believe people that alphabetize titles that start with “The” under the letter “T” don’t deserve to live. I better find The Godfather under “G”.
- I either like my hair so long that I can put it in a ponytail or completely shaved off and bald. I am completely dissatisfied with anything in between.
- I like to sleep under a lot of blankets, all year round. 62-65 degrees is acceptable sleeping temperature. If the windows are sweating because the air conditioner is set so low, I’m good with that.
- I do not respect authority until it has earned my respect.
- The subject of politics will put me to sleep faster than Ambien with a bourbon chaser.
- I analyze everything you say to see if I can respond with “That’s what she said”.
- I analyze everything I say to see if I can punctuate it with “As far as you know”.
- I like country music . . . if you’re cute and have nice boobies. Otherwise it makes me want to kill myself.
. . .and one more,
I wrote this in the nude.
As far as you know.
(Too bad you can’t poke your mind’s eye out, huh?)
Favorite Facebook post of the day (Permission obtained from the participants to leave their names visible):