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:
e. @ StarSpangledHaggis
Pinko's Problems, Naked Hippies and Yelling Fire
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