atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,

#438: Self-serve:______________________________

When I was a toddler, Mom found me chewing on a book of matches. She took me to the doctor, who gave me syrup of ipecac, which was supposed to make me vomit, only I didn't vomit.

I think that's the only possible explanation for a great many things. I'm not really sure what is in matches, or what is in syrup of ipecac, but obviously I rolled a "00" on the miscibility table (AD&D joke) because the effect of the components was obviously permanent.


I like magical girl anime. Particularly Wedding Peach.

I like fat chicks. Not hugely fat, mind you, but pudginess is not an automatic turn-off for me.

When I really think about it, I realize that I'd rather drive my oil-burning 1995 Escort than get a brand-new car. A new car sounds good on the surface, but I like the performance characteristics of the Escort. (Other than the oil-burning. That's a bit of a downer. But it's managable, and once I grab a little oom-pah down my pants I'll put the good engine into the car....)

I don't like 95% of all television. I don't even like the "cool" shows.

I don't like 99.997% of all popular music.

I like constructive criticism.

I don't wish it was bigger.

I don't like getting drunk. (It feels too much like hypoglycemia.)

I don't like strip clubs. (Not because I think they're morally wrong, though.)

I go to Hooters for the food. (No one makes better hot wings. I usually get takeout.)

I'm not interested in having the "biggest best baddest greatest". I want things which do their jobs with satisfactory performance, and as long as they work correctly I don't care what's on the label. Paying more for snob appeal is a bad investment and designer clothing is for morons with more money than brains.

I drive close to the speed limit most of the time. (Amazing but true: that way you don't get speeding tickets and you don't need a radar detector.)

I don't like sports.

I hope the Olympics don't come to Chicago in 2016, because it'll be a big inconvenient mess.

I like the suburbs.

I like it when Congress is "gridlocked".

...and I'm running out of quirks; it's taking me longer to think of them, so I'm going to stop there.

But see? See? What other possible explanation could there be? Matches and ipecac, I'm telling you.

And DON'T TRY IT AT HOME. Believe it when I say YOU DON'T WANT TO BE ME.

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