I don’t think I like me anymore….
But I can’t live without me.
The older I get, the grouchier I get.
I am an “Odd Couple”.
I am a slob.
I am a neat freak.
I will eat anything, but it has to be made or cooked just so…
Unless it comes in a can, then I can eat it cold.
I hate being around a lot of people, but I love being the center of attention.
I cannot stand tomatoes, but I love ketchup, salsa or fried green ones.
I am thoughtful and intuitive.
I am full of shit and have absolutely NO IDEA what in the hell is going on…
I love my fellow man and have great hopes that we will weather all storms and unrest and become a peaceful world full of daisies and butterflies….
I fantasize about driving my truck over many cars in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and killing all them stupid fuckers…
I love going to church.
I hate going to church.
I am immune from bacteria on a 3 day old pizza.
When I drink coffee, I have to do it on the toilet.
I love spaghetti and insist on eating it with chopsticks….Italianese?
I love puppies.
I am afraid of dogs.
I think kittens are cute.
But they can’t swim very well. (Maybe I should take them out of the bag full of bricks next time).
Obviously, I am mean….
I hate the novels of Nicholas Sparks…
It’s hard to read them when I’m freaking balling my ass off….
I hate to cry, but I am a big fat sissy girl…
I cried over the last episode of M.A.S.H
I cried when Old Yeller died.
I just killed a fly….I did not cry.
I’m glad it’s dead.
Who in the hell wants to reincarnate into a fly anyway? In-laws? Broke relatives?
I love my job.
I am a disgruntled employee.
I am doing pretty darn good these days, but I want to do better.
I am on a diet.
I think that the diet food people are laughing their asses off because they are selling us cardboard disguised as “food” and know it, and there’s
not one damn way to prove it.
I believe in UFO’s.
I believe in ghosts.
I believe in every urban legend I have ever heard.
I believe in Bigfoot.
I believe in the Loch Ness monster.
I believe in God and heaven.
I don’t believe I will make it out of life alive….
I am narcissistic, but I notice my flaws, what few there are….
I am arrogant with a dash of humility.
I remember my first French kiss…
It freaked me out! I didn’t know WTF was goin’ on!
But I liked it….
I had posters of Kiss, Meat Loafs “Bat out of Hell”, Loni Andersen (WKRP in Cincinatti) and Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog” in my room as I was growing up.
Loni was wearing a two piece itty bitty teenie weenie satin white string bikini…
She was my first….
My Granny used to eat a tablespoon of Vaseline with her morning coffee every day.
I tried it.
I came to the conclusion that my beloved grandmother was nuttier than a squirrel turd.
How do we truly judge ourselves? Against others…?
Why is perfection demanded by imperfect people?
Why can’t we be happy with what we are?
Who set the parameters?
I hate God.
I can’t make up my mind….
The weird part is that I KNOW he’s watching me…
Maybe I am the only truly awesome person on this earth.
Maybe I am the only living soul on this planet and the rest of y’all are all a figment of my imagination…
Maybe I am living in a Menagerie created by my mind.
I don’t like spinach.
I love Angelina Jolie and I want to bear her children.
I hate wearing socks.
I hate Verizon……They know what they’re doing with all those hidden charges.
I think I will have a pastrami sandwich and a cup of macaroni for dinner.
I think I’ll even put Swiss cheese on it.
Somebody stop me…
I have seen tornadoes in real life; they are the finger of Satan.
You do not know the terror until you see it.
I could not breathe…..I cried……I prayed.
I have witnessed the birth of a child…
I could not breathe…..I cried……I prayed.
I am a dormant alcoholic.
You do not know the terror until you live it.
It is the finger of Satan….
I am an imperfect man with delusions and expectations of grandeur in an imperfect world.
Just the way I like it….
Have I mentioned I hate tomatoes?
I am extremely bored and have lots to do, but my lazy bone is infected again and I don’t want to aggravate it.
I leave you now with your own thoughts.
I have shown you mine….
9 thoughts on “Go Figure…Me”
You are a poet.
OK, you hate wearing socks. How do you feel about socks AND sandals?
How about barefoot? As soon as I come home, it’s off with the shoes and socks.
You know I love my pedicures. It’s Jesus shoes for me baby!
If we didn’t have a left and we didn’t have a right, Trey, we’d never know it those days when we stumbled upon our center.
This post was a good one. Then again, most of yours are good ones. Most.
A couple are just too friggin’ weird for me.
Your grandma’s vaseline ain’t nothin’. My grandfather started every day with a raw egg in a jigger of whiskey. That I never tried. Kept me away from raw eggs and whiskey, truth be told.
thanks again, writer scary trucker guy
You do love yourself that’s for sure. When u home in the morring I will be sure and have you some fresh tomatoes waiting For. You all sliced up real Pretty. Lol I love you
I didn’t you know you went to USC?? Well, that’s where the HAT’S from!…LOL. Another good one buddy! *Catherine* 🙂