You can thank a Big Fat Slob for this post. He's got a terrific blog but has just ruined me. I've spent months now trying to build a reputation as a respectable blogger, having failed at pretty much everything else in my life. This all comes tumbling down today because he's ordered me to write five weird things about myself. If I refuse, I go into some bloggers' black hole, to be shunned by other bloggers for eternity.
But here's the problem. Everything about me is weird. Something is seriously wrong with me. I know that. So when I list five things that may seen weird to me, it will probably convince you I need to be committed. OK, here goes.
First, I like the smell of my own farts. In fact, that smell should be bottled as a cologne. Eau dO'Hare.
Second, whenever I go for a run, I end up with the runs. Where do you think the Lehigh Valley's brownfields come from, bippy?
Third, I'm afraid of my phone. It's evil.
Fourth, I love movies, but can no longer watch television. It bores the hell out of me. When I try, I fall asleep in about ten minutes.
Fifth, about those runs, I almost always forget toilet paper.
Sixth, I really hate Santa Claus. I know I was only supposed to list five weird things, but
Seven, I'm incapable of following simple directions.
Hope you're happy, you Big Fat Slob. Now I get to name five other bloggers and assign them the same task. I select BillyBytes, the loafers at EastonUndressed, NewsOverCoffee, I've Made a Huge Tiny Mistake and Lehigh County Redneck.
Friday Afternoon Update: You've got to check out the five weird things that Lehigh County Redneck listed about herself. Holy canoli!