I Didn't Look Down And I Stepped In Meme

Ah, gadzooks! I asked Katie something and she in turn, asked me in kind.

You see, Katie brought this up (note the picture of Louie, the Super Dog. He only stood still for a second before he saved twenty children from a burning bus) and then, that up. So I said "what about 10 things you need to know about your Katie?....I'm waiting."

So I opened my mouth and got memed.

I'm not passing this one on, mostly because I brought this upon myself. So without further ado, fither ado, even, Snagglepuss, here it is...

1) I've got a temper. Damn, I mean, I've got a temper. Having Procrastinator Jr. in the car has saved me from many a fight or even worse things. I have to be an example for my kid, which brings me to...

2) It's easy for me to stay drug and alcohol free, but not swear free. I try to keep it clean on my blog and I steer away from racier issues because I don't want the in-laws or specifically, my nieces and nephews to get the wrong impression. My Sitemeter sez that they don't come here, but some search engines keep everything you say up there, for nearly an eternity.

F**king Internet B*st*rds! Once I start cussing, it doesn't stop and I even make people with Tourette's wince.

So, in person with Junior around, you will hear me say "Mother Hubbard!" and "Jiminey Cricket!" more than an adult should (like any adult should talk like that). He hears enough f-bombs when walking past the bus stop from kids who are oblivious to young ears, just like I was at that age.

3) I am a person of color, many colors actually and I'm not saying which, at this time. If you saw me, you wouldn't get half of my racial makeup correct and if someone comes off at me, a little narrow-minded, I will make it a point not to tell them just what those races are. The worst example of this was back in '89 when I was a checker at Safeway and a woman asked me, "what are you?"

Me: I'm a human being.
Odd Woman: I know that, what are you?
Me: I'm an American. (to the Head Checker) I'm going on break.
Odd Woman: No, where were you born?
Me: San Francisco.
Odd Woman: No, where were your parents born?
Me: In America.

The Odd Woman followed me back to just short of the break room and I didn't say another word to her. It seems insensitive now, but you have to realize that she wasn't gonna be happy until she put me into a category. I don't fall into a category, not for the census and not for her with that tone. Hey, speaking of narrow-minded people wasting my time...

4) I've still got more issues than the back catlogue of Nation Geographic for a certain suburb east of Oakland. You know your "happy place?" All I've got to do is hear the name of that suburb and I get to my "psycho place," real fast. There's about eight years of my life that they owe me and hell yeah, I still got that grudge.

5) Loyal readers of this blog know that I'm a big kid, but now everybody knows. In my family, it's okay to watch cartoons well into retirement age and I see myself playing video games well past my time of passing. So be forewarned, keep whatever the future incarnations of Playstation and Xbox outside of your house or in a sound-proof room. Because that ghost that will be keeping you up by racking up the high score at four in the morning, will be me.

6) There are crappy songs that I love, but I'm too embarassed to buy or I never get around to buying. "Poison" by Britney Spears, "Rock Your Body," by Justin Timberlake, "I Belive In A Thing Called Love" by The Darkness, off the top of my head, because I was going to do a guilty pleasures post like Beth. If vinyl singles were still around, I would own songs like that in my collection. I'm not paying five or six dollars plus shipping for the CD singles and I won't download them, so your ears are safe when you come by my house or ride in my car. Speaking of cars...

7) I listen to the radio, even though the selection of music and the constant commercials aggravate me to no end. I could afford a satellite radio, but I won't pay for one. I could burn CDs from my collection that would keep my happy and would surprise me probably more often than the radio, but I keep listening to the radio.

What makes it worse is that in the San Fransisco Bay Area, most of the stations are owned by only three corporations. So they collude together and time their commercial breaks within seconds of each other so that it's virtually impossible to tune in any music. You'd think I'd learn by now, rather than telling the radio to S.T.F.U. all the way up and down my presets. Go fig'.

Remember what Einstein said, "insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

8) If some of the things listed above make me seem cheap, I'll let you in on where a lot of my money goes. Women have shopping, some guys have boats or cars that they like to drop a fortune on. Me? Food. I bought a jar of mustard infused with tarragon and didn't even blink at the nearly seven dollar price. I get a craving for crab cakes or prime rib? So be it.

I don't go clubbing anymore, I get drunk only about four times a year, if that. I don't gamble and I'm not the clotheshorse that I was back in my clubbing days. So food eats up most of my free income and some income that really should be going to more important things. But my stomach is happy.

9) Speaking of not gambling, I drop about nine dollars a month on the lotto and that's it. The Missus and I were explaining to Procrastinator Jr. that Vegas didn't like us the one time we went, because both bowed out after we lost $50. Gambling is in my family, not as bad as my Grandfather used to do it and my family stays away from it for the most part, but they have a hard time stopping once they start.

My Grandfather used to play the ponies, the numbers, football pools, anything he could. He used to take me to summer fairs, just so that he could hit the horse tracks they had there. He provided well for the family, but he had to hustle here and there, just to stay ahead of his vice. We're talking selling fireworks out of the trunk, magazines that should've been shipped back to their publishers and those are the things that I can remember now, or that I figured out at the time.

I confine my vices to my screeplays and short stories because no one ever beats the house.

10) I learned Italian from living off and on there, for about a year and a half. That was over some twenty years ago and I find myself speaking Spanish more frequently (I'm not complaining), even though I can barely order a burrito. The problem is that I can't think in both languages and I find that for each word of Spanish that I learn, I forget two words of Italian.

Figura ti, che peccato.