1. Each player must post these rules first.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
Here's my list:
- I love the number 11. I get a little crazy about it. When I set my alarm clock, I have to make sure that all the numbers add up to 11. For instance, I can get up at 9:02, 9:11, 9:20, and after that, I'm pretty much screwed. I can, if I'm really desperate, sometimes get away with a cheat like 9:31 (9+3-1=11). I wake up EVERY MORNING with this neurotic bullshit. It's awful.
- I have this thing with symmetry. If you touch me with something cold on my right shoulder, I need to be touched with something equally cold on my left shoulder in exactly the same place. If you tweak one nipple, you must tweak the other. Lovers have exploited this obsession by doing mean things like smacking one ass cheek and refusing to smack the other unless I am willing to blow them. Again, awful.
- On my desk at work, I have a plush stuffed pig. It sits atop my computer. It is wearing an outfit of red devil horns that are glittery and gorgeous.
- I'm not wearing any panties!
- Today, my fingernails are painted purple-black. I got a wild hair up my ass not long ago and painted them for the first time in centuries. Painting fingernails is neat.
- I am a famous zit-picker. I'll pick zits for hours and hours. I love it. I'm not sorry. Apparently, I am also a chronic confessionalist.
- Sometimes if I get really depressed, I have these visions of spectacular self harm; for instance, stapling my vagina closed, lying on train tracks, hammering nails into my arms, etc. It's not like conscious thought...just more like visions that pop into my mind. My ex-husband, apparently, also has these thoughts, but they're about me. He keeps envisioning me getting hit by a bus, or that's what he said when I talked to him last week. What a jackass.
- I sleep with a nightgown, still, that used to be my mother's. I call it my "Silky." It smells like my mom, and I like to put it all over my face, and my husband likes to steal it and hide it from me and pretend like he's having an affair with it. Usually, he hides it somewhere near his penis and tells me that Silky was giving him a blowjob. It's very charming.
Tried and true, and a fan of list posts: My Blogging Bff MPJ
My real-time BFF: Long Vowels
The Dirtiest of Dirty Bitches
The Discovering Alcoholic
The Stay At Home Mother-Extraordinaire
Urban Thought, a new friend
Miriguy: tagged back!