Seriously, I don’t know what the whole hang-up that people have toward girls who are a little big is. Even a girl who would be considered “bigger than just chubby” would be fine with me. Also, some guys are “leg men” or “thigh men,” right? I’m a “chest man,” and chubby girls usually are pretty stacked in that department. If I wasn’t already married I’d say: bring 'em on (but I am…so I don’t say anything like that, of course…not officially, anyway).
I mentioned my thing for uniforms before, eh? And glasses? A girl who is a little big in a nice uniform wearing a pair of glasses? MMMMM MMMMM!
Yeah but a lot of those people living normal lives are still sociopaths. I’m pretty sure I grew up with one (my stepfather.) If someone came to me tomorrow and told me he was a serial killer I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.
Not to fan the flames or anything, but I used to have three pet rats, and they make awesome, adorable pets. They’re wicked smart and quite affectionate.
Okay, a couple more…
I have the worst tattoo in the world. I lost a bet on the 91 NCLS while drinking warm San Miguel beer and bathtub tequila in Olongapo City and now carry the Rolling Stones logo on my right arm.
I think the DMZ between North and South Korea is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Fifty years of unregulated nature and growth can do wonders for a war torn area.
I have done morning radio in four countries, stand up comedy on three continents, and anchored live network newscasts on two, and still get nervous when I have to talk in front of people.
I was taken off nightly news in Tokyo after exclaiming that “Someone needs to get that Seaman off the mat” after a navy guy got knocked out in a boxing match. My boss thought my skills would be more appreciated in the Radio section.
In my twenties and early thirties I was an unrepentant ass. I basically drank and screwed my way through several relationships. Most of them weren’t even mine. I have tried to make up for it in my late thirties and early forties, but I’m still waiting on that Karmic Sword of Damocles to drop.
I’m a scofflaw. I think red lights at three in the morning should be viewed as stop signs. Speed limits are fascist, and that reports of testicular cancer in policemen who use radar guns is poetic justice.
I’m becoming more liberal as I get older. When I was active duty, my views were much more to the right than they are know. I also attribute that to youth and a lack of education. The more I learn, and read, the more I move left.
I don’t believe in fate, or predestination, but I do believe what comes around goes around. That is why I flinch so much.
Job 3 and 4 I think you mean. My sensei and another guy I knew had bodyguarding and personal protection businesses and I did occasional work for them. Once in a while a client would need something transported - Cash, securities, small pieces of art, etc. Since we were bonded, we’d take it for them. You never really realize how fantastically boring and draining, “Don’t let this out of your sight for an instant,” is until you actually have to do it.
For job 4, I was driving cab between professional jobs, and I would, from time to time, pick up a working girl coming back from a client. I’d let them know about my security background, give them my card and we’d work out an arrangement for them to hire me as their personal driver. I’d get them to the destination, make sure my cell was programmed on their speed dial, confirm what time I was to come get them if I hadn’t heard from them and then wait.
One girl wanted me to go in with her, collect the cash from the client and then wait, but most were just the above arrangement. I never had any trouble.
I was initially attracted to Mr. Kat because of his resemblance, both physical and personality, to “the one who got away.” I try not to think too hard about how I’d feel or what I might do if that one showed back up again.
Nah. I get 'em, but not a whole lot, and they don’t last too long. My biting is very superficial, and only affects the top layer of skin. I don’t make myself bleed or anything. The only time that happens is when I bite there accidentally, while eating.
Actually, that reminds me of another little fact:
I have this tooth on my lower jaw that sits slightly farther back than the rest of my teeth. When I had braces, the orthodontist bent a piece of wire in a sort of U shape to fit underneath that tooth. I have absolutely no idea what that was supposed to accomplish, because all it did was dig into the inside of my mouth and give me a nasty open sore. The wound never closed all the way, and as a result I still have a small flap of skin that just sort of sits there. This has gotten smaller over the years, but it’s still there.
Living a prune’s life is the hardest thing to do, but the easiest when there’s nothing else. Think of it this way, if you lived as a caveman sitting in your cave there would still be something you do to make you feel guilty. I’m not a defender of being a total schmooze, either.
Needless to say: I have a really boring life, but I am a straight dealer. And I can also speak for a lot of cheaters, that they are tired of their boring lives as well.
I have these dreams too. I used to have a couple of parakeets and I dream that I starved them to death. (I did not.) But that was 35 years ago and I still dream of finding poor Tweet in the bottom of her cage.
We’ve gone through at least 7 different fish in the last 9 months - I know fish don’t have a long lifespan, but it isn’t that short! (Average lifespan of them is about 6-7 weeks, we only have about 2-3 at a time)
Ostensibly our 7 year old daughter is in charge of the fish, but we help a lot too, so it’s not like there isn’t blood on our hands. I’m very paranoid about having her feed the fish daily, and every day before she gets home from school I check the tank to see if there are any “floaters”, fully expecting one every day.
In the same vein when I was a teenager I once killed a catcus from lack of watering. Seriously. I actually am proud of that fact too.
