Tag, eh. Miss F has touched and deemed me it. Ok, and this leads to my first …
1. When I was in Cub Scouts (no, that’s not the oddity), 9 or 10 (?), a bunch of other Cub Scouts were playing a game on a patch of grass before a meeting. I asked what they were playing. “Smear-the-queer.” I had no idea what this meant, so the rules were explained to me (I mean, I had NO idea). One kid holds a ball (a football?) while everyone else chases him and tries to tackle this ball holder (eek) to the ground. (The more I write about this, the worse it gets.) So, of course I played. And you know what? I was great at not getting tackled, I was great at being queer and not getting smeared.
2. For a time (too long), I thought I was Bukowski. Not that I thought I was Bukowski, in fact, he was a bit like me. Then, one day, hung-over and walking to work, I wanted this smelly, 250 pound white alcoholic off my shoulders. But, it took a while.
3. I am a pretty bad speller. But, I’m trying.
4. I once cut my foot open in a water hole in Hawaii named The Queen’s Bath while standing on sharp as hell lava for a picture my grandmother was trying to take of me. We walked there (my cousin was with us, too), so it seemed I was screwed. But there were some construction dudes around, and one came down, make me chew some awful tasting leaves (eucalyptus maybe?), and apply them to my cut. They then drove us to my grandmother’s car. The Queen’s Bath, sadly, was covered in lava … or perhaps my unconscious mind made it so.
5. I saw porn for the first time when I was 5.
Ok, so my turn to tag. This is hard. Most people I know have already been tagged. I’ll take suggestions, how’s that?