I’ve just been informed that I’ve been “tagged” through a social networking site, which apparently means that I have to do whatever I’m told, and then identify a number of my friends so that they can be forced to do the same. It’s like a chain letter, but somewhat more stupid, as there is no possibility of financial reward, or threat of gruesome death. You’re just told to do this thing, and provide the names of others. In this particular case, I’m being asked to list 25 “random things (about myself), facts, habits, or goals.”
So far, it looks like four of my friends have fallen victim to this particular meme. One admitted to having been in rehab. One shared that her mother is schizophrenic. I’m not sure what I can share that hasn’t already been shared, so I thought that I’d open it up to those of you who know me…. Following are the first few things to come to mind. If you know of others, leave a comment, or (in the case that it’s something shockingly terrible or embarrassing) send me an email.
Here’s my short list:
1. My head comes to a point on top.
2. I went through the windshield of a car when I was two.
3. I have brittle little wrists. I’ve broken both of them.
4. I’m likely related to the man who killed the pirate Black Beard.
5. I collected all of my fingernails and toenails for about a decade.
6. I have Obsessive Compulsive disorder, which, I’m glad to say, has its good points.
7. I’ve never asked a girl on a date. The same goes for women.
8. I was propositioned once by some men on a Greek boat to star in a Turkish film.
9. No matter how many times I see it, I cry my eyes out watching Ghost.
10. The nails on my big toes grow faster than all the other ones, and they’re as sharp as switchblades.
11. I was on Romper Room as a child.
12. I got thrown off Romper Room for spitting.
13….
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after seeing the Howard Hughes movie, i collect my urine in large jars.
14. For about a decade, I’ve collected all of my tears on videotape.
You won a beauty contest…..Came in FIRST
15. I said yes to those sailors and in their Turkish movie.
Imagines himself to be a giant octopus making love to Ricky Nelson.
(Someone else can mention the obsession with ball shaving.)
He’s afraid if he ever meets a celebrity, they will seduce him and spirit him away from his family to join Scientology.
He’s a true goatse connoisseur.
Mark’s something of a poet. His most famous work can be found on the wall of a men’s room stall in the Dallas airport.
It reads:
“Here I sit, cheeks aflexin’, just gave birth to another texan.”
Well I still need a few more…
And thanks for reminding me about the Little Mister Frankfort contest, or whatever it was called, Mom.
Also I should say that I’ve handled a dead body before. Most people don’t know that about me.
Sometimes, when he’s feeling a bit melancholy, he imagines himself contracting a fatal illness for which he’s largely to blame. He imagines himself with a few months to live. He imagines himself writing letters, to his daughter to be opened every year until her 21st birthday, to his wife every year until their 50th anniversary. He imagines every year of their lives he’ll miss. He imagines being gone. He imagines apologizing. He imagines love and regret. He imagines every detail of what he’d say. Seven. Twelve. Sixteen … Twenty, Thirty Seven, Forty Five… Then, he imagines his final letter to each, on the 21st birthday and 50th anniversary, and sobs. Sobs until his throat chokes dry. He imagines pouring everything he’d hoped into letters, sealing them, dry. He imagines his words holding on. Haunting them. Choking. He imagines holding them. He imagines no he. Then, he goes to sleep. Lungs full of air, holding a puff of breath.
Sniff…wait…who’s this about? Oh yah Mark. What a freak!
Mark Maynard once got a piece of junk mail addressed to Mark Maynerd. It mildly amused him and caused him to chuckle before he threw it away.
Mark never really understood what Doritos was comparing ‘Nacho Cheesier’ to, but it didn’t really bother him.
Once when Mark was walking down the street he saw a penny lying on the ground, and thought about if it was worth picking up. When he came to the conclusion that it would indeed bring good luck, he had already passed the penny by a few steps. Mark found it too silly to stop, turn around, walk a few steps and bend down for just one cent. Yet he kept thinking about the situation all the way to the dentist.
Mark accidently stepped on grass that had a ‘keep off’ sign on it. He hid in his room for about 2 weeks until he felt it was safe to come out.
Mark can’t think of a word that rhymes with ‘Purple’.
One summer, Mark’s neighbor informed him that she would be going on vacation for 2 weeks, and asked if Mark would feed her cats while she was away. Mark agreed, and was a little worried that one of the cats might die. Everything went fine.
Mark has never asked himself what Jesus would do in any certain situation. He does have compiled a list of things he would do for a Klondike bar, though.
Mark went to a strip club once but he didn’t enjoy it at all, since he couldn’t stop himself from thinking how the girls should have went to college instead of baring their bodies to make a living. He eventually left when a stripper came on stage that vaguely resembled his mother.
It’s been said that lightning never strikes in the same place twice. In actual fact, Mark remembers reading about an incident when this did indeed occur. However Mark doesn’t have the full details of the incident at his disposal to construct an argument, so just nods pensively when he hears this saying.
Mark once wondered if one person’s red was another person’s blue and so on. He thought himself clever until he found out his neighbor thought of the idea two days before him.
Mark once thought he could ‘spice things up a bit’ by wearing his wristwatch on his right wrist instead of his left. Needless to say, Mark felt very uncomfortable that day, and has since vowed to keep his wristwatch on his left wrist until the day he dies.
Mark cares about his privacy. When the cashier at PetCo asks for his phone number he tells her ‘No, thank you.’
GRAND JUNCTION, Colo. – With no water and as little hope of survival, Aspen mountaineer Aron Ralston, 27, used a pocketknife to amputate his own arm and free himself from a boulder weighing 800-1,000 pounds that fell and trapped him for five days in a remote desert canyon in eastern Utah. Pinned in a 3-foot wide slot canyon near the Maze District of Canyonlands National Park south of Moab, Utah, Ralston cut through his own arm below the elbow Thursday morning, applying a tourniquet and administering first aid before rigging anchors and fixing a rope to rappel to the bottom of Blue John Canyon and hiking out to meet rescuers. ….meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Mark Maynard spilled mustard on his shirt.
Excellent list, Robert, did you know…
Mark has never been to a grocery store alone. He refers to a need for “the buddy system.”
Mark can’t tell you what he looks like. For example, if you ask him if he has a beard today, he can’t answer correctly without a mirror or touching his face.
Mark won’t wear pants without something in the pockets. He finds empty pockets wasteful and absurd.
Mark will not swim for leisure or pleasure. Although he can swim well enough, he views it as something only done for survival. Like procreation.
In high school, Mark tried to go by the nickname “Icepick” after the mob character in Magnum PI. It didn’t catch on. Classmates added an “r.”
Mark refers to his genitals as the meat and potatoes. (Safe link.)
When Mark urinates, he likes to take out the “meat and potatoes.”
Mark is extremely uncomfortable with the thought of someone hearing him pee, so he often kneels in front of toilets, placing his “meat” as close to the bowl as possible, to minimize the sound of splash.
Mark does not like hair in, on, or anywhere near, his meat and potatoes.
(tangent) Whoa! New webdesign!
Fancy. Ad sales up? Or is this the blog version of the broken windows theory?
Mark thinks that by having comments appear in white on a robin’s egg blue (as opposed to caustic black and white), commenters will become more docile and tractable.
The strong cast black type will position him as the hard striking voice of authority, while the white type floats aimlessly like fluffy clouds in a spring sky.
I mean, look above, doesn’t Brackache suddenly seem rather fragile? Doesn’t he just make you want to sail away?
Mark thinks that by having comments appear in white on a robin’s egg blue (as opposed to caustic black and white), commenters will become more docile and tractable.
The strong cast black type will position him as the hard striking voice of authority, while the white type floats aimlessly like fluffy clouds in a spring sky.
I mean, look above, doesn’t Brackache suddenly seem rather fragile? Doesn’t he just make you want to sail away?
(If this appears twice, it’s because the first time I tried to post I got a message saying, I kid not, “Your comment waits moderation.”)
I guess it said, “awaiting” not “waiting.” And, somehow, my “moderation” warning posted with my above attempt?
It’s like fucking Word 2007.
Which I would do as a horseshoe crab.
Mark thinks that by having comments appear in white on a robin’s egg blue (as opposed to caustic black and white), commenters will become more docile and tractable.
I’m having tech difficulties. Forgive me while I test them. My first comment resulted in an “awaiting moderation” message. My second attempt appeared to post, then I posted my third (above) to find my second disappeared. This was my first post. I’ll try again:
The strong cast black type will position him as the hard striking voice of authority, while the white type floats aimlessly like fluffy clouds in a spring sky.
I mean, look above, doesn’t Brackache suddenly seem rather fragile? Doesn’t he just make you want to sail away?
(If this appears twice, it’s because the first time I tried to post I got a message saying, I kid not, “Your comment waits moderation.”)
I am rather fragile, and I think my comments look good in blue.
I especially enjoy that only OEC’s posts require moderation. Either from old glitches, new glitches, or the Almighty who speaks to his servants in glitch signs and moderation omens.
Moderate this you fucking crazed cracked fantasy federalist.
I’m sorry, what I meant to say was you’re strong like music and slow like honey.
I don’t know where all that aggression came from, you’re really a pretty little eggshell.
(Still testing … I posted a fake comment as Cousin Geoff which still hasn’t appearred [I said it was a fake comment in the fake comment], regulars may want to spit out a comment soon to protect their time-honored identities).
I sure do miss the preview button. Used to give me pause…
WTF? Bizarro World? How am I supposed to follow all of this? Later gators.
If we stick together, we’ll get through this, people. Just remain calm.
All the comments I left last night finally came through. No problems with subsequent ones. It’s silky smooth sailing again.
Can other people get a darker, more authoritative shade of blue with their comments? Or another color?
I’d like mine fire engine red, with bold black 48 pt zebrawood font, please.
…and whenever you run the cursor over it, it should make Godzilla sounds, ideally.
Mark made love to a hornets’ nest in order to get into a fraternity.
mark can’t leave a party without scribbling something weird down on a napkin.
Your new “about” page needs to be longer. Please consider adding this as a start.