Every poem in my book of original poetry begins with the line “Roses are red.”
My fingerprints spell out the text of the book The Grapes of Wrath.
Well, who hasn’t?
I live in a cavity underneath some loose floorboards in the cereal aisle of an old Kroger supermarket
I have a single tear tattoo under my eye, to signify the one peron I killed - the tattooist.
I am the ghost of Peron, the tattoo artist that Hatchie killed.
I once received a tattoo, but my mutant healing factor caused my skin to eject the ink back out.
I have a tattoo that says, “The plane! The plane!”
I have Hervé Villechaize’s corpse in the vault freezer I bought just for that purpose
About six months ago, I commissioned an ice cream sculpture of Mr. Roarke and Tattoo gazing into the sky awaiting the plane. I keep it in a purpose-built cold room, and every day I eat a little bit of it. I expect it to last until mid-2028.
I eat chocolate and only chocolate.
I have a tattoo of an icecream cone made with chocolate-flavored ink. I need to have it touched-up again, I keep licking it off.
I have never lost a game of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots despite my lack of thumbs.
My typing speed is 30 words per minute with my fingers, but 75 words per minute with my toes.
I have triple-cheeked buttocks.
I have all 10 of my fingers - 4 on the left hand and 6 on the right.
I was raised by a family of flying squirrels.
I am happy and feeling well.
I have put all my affairs in order…which displeased seven out of ten of them and really displeased My Beloved.
When I sleep, I snore the riff of “Seven Nation Army.”