It would appear that Walter has tagged me with a blog meme in which I am supposed to tell you five things you don’t know about me. Alas, if it were to be five things that no one knows about me, they’d no longer be skeletons in the closet, so let’s just go with five things most people don’t know (or care to know, as the case may be).
- In seventh grade, I was a participant in the Duke University Talent Identification Program. It let me take the college-prep SAT to see how I would score against college-bound juniors and seniors taking the same test. I beat more than 60% of them. I’m not sure if this means I was a really smart seventh grader or if a lot of people got socially promoted all through high school.
- In junior high school, I was once carrying contraband as part of the Brewbaker Junior High softcore porn exchange underground and – reaching into my backpack, without looking, for a textbook – I instead pulled out an issue of Playboy, sent it airborne, and let it land with a pornographic “spap!” on my desk. Thankfully, only one of my friends saw it and I quickly returned it to the comfort and safety of my Eastpak.
This would not have happened if our booby-underground had relied on magazines wrapped in condoms and stuffed into this orifice or that. However, I suspect the discomfort and doctor’s bills would have drawn undue attention.
- I have been involved with women from Canada, Peru, Finland, and England. This makes me an international Romeo, except for all those other aspects about me that don’t.
- My friends and I make music, some of it very bad, some of it almost tolerable, and we’ve gone under such names as “Dodgy Lesbian Girl” and “Autistic Zoo,” neither of which is bound to endear us to certain segments of the hearing population.
- I inadvertently taught my wee Fiona the phrase “piss off.” Whoops.