Tell us one thing about yourself

OK, that makes sense. I can blow a conch shell.

Now that the OP has said that we can tell another thing, not only can I blow a conch shell, I’ve had sex on a running Harley. Don’t do this at home, kids. Its painful falling off and having guy and bike land on you. Go to a park and try it on grass.

I gotta poop.

Back in 10 minutes.

Sometimes, my ears will unconsciously move in response to sudden sounds.

I sang solo on stage for the President of Brazil and 3500 other people.

Minha segunda coisa:

I play drums in a band here in Luanda. We have played on an offshore platform and at several embassy parties, including a 4th of July bash at the US embassy.

I have never carved a Halloween pumpkin lantern, but intend to change that this year. (Was that two things?)

I have had an Aye Aye walk up my arm, and sit on my shoulder.

This . . . everything except that our 25th anniversary will be next month.

I attended both the 1977 and 1985 National Boy Scout Jamborees.

I taught myself (with instruction books) to play cello.

To a Royal Conservatory of Canada Grade 6 level.

In 3 months.

But were you only eight years old?

A month ago, the Federal building in downtown Kansas Ciity was shut down due to a terrorist/bomb scare. It was a misunderstanding.

Part of my job this week is to work on looking in to the events that led up to this.

I’ve read every book written by Asimov, Heinlein and Ellison(so far).

I started re-reading Heinlein - really enjoying them - fun to read.

I’m not very interesting.

In my thirty-three years of life, I have never consumed even one alcoholic beverage.

(My list of “never haves” is a mile long, but I’m only allowed to share one. :D)

You two should really hook up. :smiley:

I made a snow angel…in my bathing suit (on the beach on New Year’s Day).

I played bass and was the principal lyricist in a high school garage band in the early 70s. We called ourselves The Baja Brigade.

I’ve mentioned this in the past, but I think it’s worth mentioning again.

I walked in on Alan Greenspan, who was sitting on the toilet in Ayn Rand’s bathroom.