
A few days ago, my bud Crotchety Old Man passed along a non-mandatory and unusually laissez-faire meme suggesting I share things about myself with you folks which are either "boring or quirky."
Regular readers are probably already snickering into their hands because, you know, even pre-meme, Cabbages is pretty much up to its leafy bits in Quirk.
As the Quirk does tend to ooze from the pores (sorry for the smell, I haven't found a good prescription-strength de-quirkorant yet), I figured we'd play along today. I was pretty sure I still had some quirkworthy items that hadn't been covered yet.
Because since Carnival Freak Shows have been outlawed, now we have memes:
- I actually like the smell of gasoline. I mean, not enough to want a new body fragrance called "Chevron Number 5." But I do find the smell of a filled fuel tank to be pleasant. More pleasant, of course, if it costs under $4.00 a gallon.
- I still occasionally catch myself walking with my thumbs tucked into my fists, because of too many years of marching band. WHY?!! What is it about flagrantly flappy thumbs I'm worried about these days? I mean, it's not like I also put on white rubber spats over my ballerina flats. Or wear a stupid hat with a large plume shaped like a guinea pig, anymore. But the thumbs. I simply cannot undo the thumbs. Curse my band director and his pointy baton!
My Thanksgiving comes complete with gigantic spiny reptiles. Yes, I know what you're thinking. I'm seeing turkeys, right. Ugly Thanksgiving turkeys. But no, my friends. I am seeing Godzilla versus Megalon, camped out in Dad's backyard in the Florida Keys. Because Little Hannah couldn't take her moderately-sized pet iguana along when the family moved to California. And Little Harrison, the same. And now their cute little lizards, left to the south Florida wilds, have grown. And expanded. And enjoy sunbathing. In between, y'know, stomping Tokyo.
- My dad listens to fish. No, really. He studies bio-acoustics, which is a fancy way of saying, "Toadfish make booping noises; and I listen to 'em." Not that he knows precisely what they're saying. Not that he's a toadfish therapist or anything, and tells them to lie down on the reef and tell him what's bothering them. ("I zink you verr traumatized early on as ze egg.") But he records them, pulls data, writes academic papers... And when I phone him, sometimes toadfish are booping over his stereo system in the background. I bet the neighbors love it! He's also made a CD of these sounds, and likes to drive around to it. Road trips with The Pop are... interesting.
- I Flex-All my face sometimes. You know, Flex-All, that burning hot muscle rub? Yep. I have killer sinus migraines regularly, and one way to help them is the Flex-All. It could be because of the comforting vapors. Or it could be just the stinging, eye-tearing, hot-cold excruciating pain of the stuff distracts me from my actual headache. Mine is not to question.
- Have you seen my Marshmallow Peeps action-adventure? ("The Peep Squad in: The Great Escape.") 'Nuff said.
Now, I bet you all think I'm going to Meme the heck out of you, picking off blog buddies from your ranks like ducks in a shooting gallery and publicly peer-pressuring you into a meme-along....
Well, okay, that would be kinda funny... But NO! In the spirit of the Quirk, I will NOT ask you to meme. I will passive-aggressively suggest that if anyone wishes to meme of their own accord, then let the meme-ing begin! Otherwise, may you live happy and meme-free this day.
And possibly just think fondly of me a moment should you see an iguana the size of a Humvee.... a bottle of Flex-All... or some idiot walking along with his or her thumbs tucked neatly into their fists.
Until tomorrow, my friends!
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