A meme, via Ilyka
. List five idiosyncrocies:
1. I can't spell "Idiosyncrzisnaiceas". Does that count?
2. I don't like people touching me. I'm very big on the personal bubble thing, in all circumstances. A little while ago, the clerk at my hardware store touched my hand while giving me my change. Drove me nuts. She flashed me a cute smile and let her hand linger, and I almost freaked out right there.
3. I carry a weapon everywhere I go. Everywhere, and the bigger the weapon, the better. If I don't have something I can kill somebody with in my pocket, I'll tweak like I'm on a five-day crack bender. Last Tuesday, I went to my local package store to pick up a 30 of delicious Pabst, and on the way out a homeless guy tapped my shoulder looking for change. I had just run out for my "Nectar in a can", and didn't bring anything sharp or that fires a bullet, so I had to kill him with a Kennedy Half-Dollar I had gotten in change. What a fucking mess that was.
4. When I bury a body, it has to be just so.
The depth of the hole, the position of the corpse, even the brand of shovels I use. There's a special brand made just for gravediggers that is perfect, but that cute teenage hardware-store clerk gave me a funny look when I bought five of them (never know when you might need one!). I think she understood, though; after all, would she want
me shoveling dirt onto her naked, mutilated corpse with an inferior shovel? Of course not! I'm sure she's thanking me for my refined tastes right now. Or she would be, if I hadn't cut out her tongue first.
5. Janeane Garofalo kindof turns me on. Not a lot, just, you know, a little bit.