"I Got Six, That's All There Is..."

When Mr Peenee informed me that he had chosen me for a "6 Pack Tag," well...

I was hoping that several of those Dieux du Stade boys were on their way over for an afternoon of heavy and inappropriate (a.k.a. "fun") tackling and touching.

Actually, Mr Peenee told me that "6 Pack Tag" was a meme right away, but hey, I can dream of being the meat between two pieces of French rugby player bread, can't I?

The rules are: 1. Link to the person who tagged you. 2. Post the rules on your blog.
 3. Write six random things about yourself.
 4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. 
5. Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
 6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Memes that request that I randomly write and post things about myself are so funny to me. I mean... "Write six random things about yourself"?!? - - don't I do that at least every six friggin' days?!? With some pictures of half naked men thrown in for good measure. 

That said, here are my six random things that I may or may not have discussed before... 

1. I don't know how to ice skate. 

Roller skate? Yes, I was a pre-teen in the 70's, when the roller rink was the 80's equivalent of the mall. And come to think of it, yesterday's "All Skate Slowly in One Direction" is today's "Poke!" on Facebook. But our 70's Facebook happened in real time and in constant circular motion. Sometimes, we did it backwards. Can you kiddies Facebook backwards? Uh huh...

2. When I get nervous, I cough. 

A hacking, continuous, "Sounds Like I'm Gonna Throw Up Bile" kind of cough. It usually happens when I get a 5 minute call before a cabaret show. I don't get nervous before straight plays (whatever those are...) or musicals anymore, though. The older I get, the less nervous I get. I try to remember what my advisor in college said to me when I told him that I was scared about how rehearsals were going for some show...

"Stephen, what Mother Teresa does is important. We do skits."

'Nuff said.

3. I drink a 7-Eleven Double Gulp of Diet Coke every day. It lasts two hours max. And at least once a week, some asshole who thinks he's Dane friggin' Cook stops me to say, "Wow, that's a big soda! Thirsty much?" or some such bullshit. Then, they laugh at their own funny and give me that "holding a turd under their nose" smirk all assholes have, while I fight the urge to say, "If you think this is big, you should see my cock." 

4. I talk to myself. A lot. 

Comes from living alone for so long, I guess, but I've realized lately that people are staring at me on the bus or walking down the street and just as I'm about to give them a good, old fashioned Jeri Blank, "What are you LOOKIN' AT?!?," I realize that I've been talking out loud (screaming "Fuck you!" to the cab driver laying on his horn) or singing (usually a nice, embarrassing Ethel Merman showtune). Then, I try to prove my sanity to the people staring at me by acting as if I've been on the phone the whole time.

Yeah. On the phone. Singing Doin' What Comes Natur'lly full voice (the Merman lines AND the call backs). Sure, they might believe that. If I was actually holding a phone. Or had a bluetooth on my ear. Or if I hadn't been SINGING!

Sadly, I'm becoming "that guy," but at least I'm aware of my escalating level of crazy. Unlike a certain governor of my state these days.

5. I have horrific arachnophobia. So much so that I scream like I've been stabbed if I just see a spider on the television. I mean, "on a tv program." If a spider was on my television, I would run. Outside. And call a moving company. Yet, I'm a Spider-Man fan. Go know...

6. If I decided that I wasn't going to go home for Christmas, a wave of East Tennesseans would invade Chicago's northside. 

I'm taking the Clampetts with Granny in the rocking chair sitting on top of the jalopy. Just like that. Only without the wealth. 

Well, they probably ALL wouldn't come up, but I know that my mom and my brother would. They're there for me. No matter what.

Damn, I guess the holiday spirit is finally taking hold of me - - that last sentence was downright SENTIMENTAL! (Check for pods).

Well, one thing proves that I'm still myself - -  I once again can't bring myself to tag anyone on a meme. So, I'll leave it to you guys. Any chance there are six of you that will help me out and take this meme? "Thank you, Mr. Fabian..."

Thanks in advance for helping me out. I hate assigning homework over the holidays. 

And thank you for the tag, Mr Peenee!