Even though I do not know the rules of internet tag, I'm going to try to wing it. As I understand it, I have to write six? was it six? random things about myself. Maybe these things are things I don't talk about much. Little secrets. Frieda Bee wrote six good memories from childhood. Do the things I reveal have to be positive, as in good memories, or just anything, from anytime? Help Frieda, help me now.
1. I have a semi-secret love of South Park. I love those foul-mouthed kids, they remind me of my childhood. The crazy parents, the cross-dressing teacher, the nasty sweetness gets me where I live.
2. When I was seven I charged kids at school five cents to tell them where babies came from. I knew this because my mother told me, in clinical, graphic detail, omitting all the boring "love between two grown-ups who love each other, bla, bla, bla....." So I knew the "He puts his penis in her vagina and stuff squirts out his......... You know the details. Needless to say I got in big trouble at school. My parents thought I was quite enterprising. I made some kids cry with this horrifying info. I bought kosher dill pickles with my sex ed. money from the little store across the street from school and ate them walking home, real happy with my windfall of nickels.
3. My dog eats his own shit. I realize this isn't exactly about me, but still......
4. I have the foulest mouth of any woman I have ever known. I learned all the nastiest words early and have always enjoyed the way they feel in my mouth. I can feign Tourettes Syndrome and scare off strange men who seem menacing to me.
5. Last time I was in New York late one night, I was walking along the street somewhere close to Grand Central Station, smoking a nicely rolled joint. I was wearing a black dress and high heeled boots, just minding my own business, when I dropped my joint. A nice looking young black man coming toward me, noticed that I was bending over feeling around on the sidewalk. He stopped and asked me if I'd dropped my contact lens. I told him I was looking for the joint I dropped, and he put his attache case down and helped me find it. When I picked it up it was out, so I whipped out my lighter, lit-up, and offered him a toke. We stood in the dark and finished the joint, then he said, "thanks, good night," and left. This has been pretty typical of the kindness of strangers. Strangers have never scared me. It was my family that scared me.
6. I used to hitch-hike.
my six taggees:
Scarlet
Phoebe Fay
Liberality
Anita
e. @ StarSpangledHaggis
Gary
POP QUIZ!
49 minutes ago
12 comments:
Oh, those are great!
That's right. The rules are the rules and then you can do whatever else you want (or change the rules). It's up to you. I do feel like I know a little bit more about you and that's the point, I'd imagine. I just think they're fun and on occasion I just can't or don't do them. At least as far as I'm concerned on this, the less dogma, the better.
Thank you for abiding the meme.
ok, you asked for it. btw, that story about n.y.--I can see it now. what a trip.
Done!
Utah ... you're on !!! I'll be on the case this afternoon.
Oh, and there seems something oddly Freudian in your pickle purchase, particularly since you made the cash telling kids that the REAL way babies are made is that daddy sticks it in and squirts !!! Bluntness, in the Sex-Ed arena, is defintely a good thing.
I like your New York anecdote as well. One thing I can you is this: the fear that people have of the average New Yorker is, not entirely of course, but for the most part, extremely unfounded. I can't even count the number of times, having lived in NYC for 20 years, that I've been helped in a real way by the kindness of strangers. I refer to things such as getting sick on a subway platform and a young couple helping me up the stairs and literally going up to the street with me, hailing a cab for me, and then coming with me in the cab to make sure I got home OK (even though their original destination was in the opposite direction).
I think living in the city makes one endure SO MANY harshities (is that a word? if not, it is now) that the average New Yorker very often tends to become far more compassionate (and yes, even toward strangers) than the average person living in the suburbs or rural areas.
I'm tired of reading about Ur damned dog. Who do U imagine eats Ur shit? Not Ur readers - that's for damn sure.
Okay, I'll try to get on this today. Won't be able to top yours, though.
Hey! Hitch hike your joint pulling, swearing self over to my site soon (not yet) and you'll find I will honour the tag with my 6.
Hey, I'd say your classmates got a bargain - a nickel for all that information. I had to learn from John Barclay who implied there was some kind of hole in the front just made for this (around the belly button). I would have given a buck for correct information.
Petro, apparently you eat my shit, as you keep coming back for more.
I wish there'd been a kid like you around when I was in school. I could've used the info.
As it was, I think I got most of my sex ed from steamy bodice rippers that I hid under my bed.
Phew!! Thanks for not picking me! The only tags/memes I'll do are the award type, because they give me the opportunity to honor other bloggers.
PS - Aren't dawgs gross? ;-)
Those are great scenes in your life. I worry about getting that phone call from school because one of my kids have told everyone about something that adults usually lie to them about.
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