Anyway, this is what I came across tonight....writing for Grade 1 students. Seems fitting. I'm right on par with their maturity, so I thought I'd just give my own insight on these topics.
What makes you scared? Aside from being found dead in my bachelor apartment wearing a cat sweater, covered in Moonshine and Smarties, there are many things that scare me: Sharks and bears (we've been over this) being pushed into the subway track by a train pusher, shitting my pants in public, that I'm legitimately growing a beard, that the world will run out of hotdogs and that i'll accidentally eat peas. Those are just a few front runners at the moment.
What if toys could talk? I will willingly wait in a hotel lobby for my friends and family and the Intervention camera crew because if a fucking doll starts talking to me, that has gotta be my rock bottom. That's just messed up.
How do plants grow? I have no fucking idea. Don't care. But I can tell you my brother grew "plants" in his bedroom when he was 17 and it got him kicked out of the house. And to think, he was en route to being the best botanist in town. God, my parents ruin everything.
Tell me about a picnic. What is this...The Bachelor? My skin crawls when I see people sitting on the ground eating sandwiches out of a basket, and you can guarantee someone on that ant-infested blanket is talking about their feelings. Picnics do that to people. Maybe it's the fresh air? Or the nitrates in their ham sandwich that make them emotional? Awkward. I'm out. Oh and also, 10 out of 10 times if I'm found on the ground, I don't mean to be there. Call an ambulance.
Friendly places: Truck stops, back seat of a car, women's washroom at a bar, my mouth.
A funny thing my pet has done: Die on my 10th birthday. Since my mom never wanted her hardwood floors scratched, and she whole heartedly believes cats are furry demonic assholes, we were never allowed pets. That is until she gave the green light on getting gold fishes. Fun! The most boring, useless little fucks on the planet! Thanks Mom! Needless to say 2 weeks after getting Flipper, I found him bloated and dead at the top of my bowl..at my 10th birthday party when I went to feed him. Flipper ate every time I ate. Death by food. Flipper, we had more in common than you knew little buddy.
Something I've done that no one else has done:
Eaten 300 meatballs in one weekend then masturbated to The Notebook. Hmmm I couldn't think of anything. I'm not really that original.
Tell me about the parade: Um, I haven't been to a parade in like 20 years. I never really did 'kid things'...I was more or less a 36 year old trapped in a 10 year olds body...I came out of my mother's cha cha with a glass of scotch and my hair did. Personally, I preferred watching All My Children and Dallas with my Mom, while wearing her fur coat and smoking fake cigarettes in front of the t.v. Remember the Popeye Cigarettes? Man, I loved those things. But I will say, as far as parades go, I can guarantee you that most of my family thinks I secretly march in the Gay Pride parade since I've arrived at every function sans lover for the past 80 years.
Can you do any magic tricks? Hells ya. I'm a master at making money in my bank account disappear 2 days after i get paid and I can also make bottles of wine disappear on a moments notice. Oh and whenever I have an adult sleepover, I'm also pretty amazing about disappearing the next morning. Some call it fleeing the scene, I call it smart and magical. No need to hang out and make shit awkward. We both know that we don't care if we have siblings, what our careers are and how we take our coffee. Once you've entered me, It's my cue to exit. Just how I roll. (Speaking of rolls I could really go for a fresh bun right now.)
Tell me about a helpful person you've met: I would say the random stranger that pointed out that I was limping the other day was pretty helpful. I didn't realize I was dragging my nifty metal encrusted broken foot down the Goddamn street. "Oh you're limping there!" "Oh my goodness, I didn't notice. Thank Christ you pointed that out." I day dream about punching people square in the throat about as often as Kim Kardashian's vag has been penetrated by a d-list celeb. That's a lot.
What's the first thing you do in the morning? I typically wake up in shock that my double chin didn't block my airway in my sleep, followed by sitting on the edge of my bed and letting a long "fuuucccckkkk" proceeded by power pissing and praying I don't go tits up in the shower. Then I hop on the subway, which is always a little slice of paradise since the general public is filled with assholes.
Well, I'm inherently lazy and I'd rather be using my fingers for other things. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Over 'n Out