Peakah's Provocations...

A meme seems to be floating through the ranks of my blogroll and has landed upon my desktop. I first saw it at Dr. Phat Tony's who passed it on to Wyatt Earp, who tagged me with it next.

Tyler has a nice list of those meme'ed thus far... (go ahead and add me to that list bud)

Ok, so apparently upon orders from the newly promoted Philly Detective Wyatt Earp, I've been given an assignment. I'm not one to tick off authority (unless it's a college professor) so to keep from being shot by said sharpshooter, it's my turn to...

Name 5 Weird Habits.

The first one is easy:
Talking to myself out loud...

I tend to regularly speak out loud to myself... although I hardly ever even realize it. My hearing isn't all that good, the roar of the turbines of fighter jets tend to drop ear cilia by the dozen. Yeah I wore ear protection... most of the time. Duh. Now I'm cursed with the insane attribute of wandering around mumbling to myself... much like the schizoids in the NYC bus depot.

I've noticed that I'll actually use different voice inflections to represent the 'other side' of the conversation with whatever imaginary figure I happen to be arguing with. Now that I think about it... I actually have some great conversations with myself. But no matter how many times I rehearse a conversation I plan on having with someone, what I thought they were going to say and what they actually do say tend to never coincide rendering my habit completely useless and maddening!

What's that I say? People are going to think I'm losing my mind? Like I care...

Numero Dos
Singing the wrong words to songs...
There nothing better than jammin the stereo in my pimped out Excursion (pimped out as defined by all the car seats strapped in the back) with the windows down and singing tunes I don't know the words to at the top of my horse lungs.

One reason I love my wife is her angelic voice. She used to sing in country bars in California and she knows how to belt out tunes that gives me goosebumps. I however have the vocal capabilities of Donald Duck. My voice is nasal, horse, with absolutely no range... any attempts at pushing that range tends to lead to a window shattering voice crack.

Nevertheless I will sing and I will sing loud if I'm in the jammin kind of mood. Unfortunately I don't know the words to most songs and just make them up as I go if I know the relative sounds of the words being sung.

For example... it took about 15 years for me to realize that the 'Warm smell of Fajitas rising up through the air' near Hotel California is actually the warm smell of colitas! What's a colita anyway? Isn't it a fruity tropical drink? (Pina Colita?) Mmmmm nothing beats the warm smell of a fajita... colitas sounds like a foot ailment.

Third:
Lack of healthy OCD qualities...

Apparently I'm amongst a bunch of OCD patients! (Yeah you Doc and Wyatt) I on the other hand, and perhaps to my detriment, am completely unconcerned with clutter, especially on my desk. Even with the insane pile of papers, kids homework, newspapers, camera equipment, mail, unaddressed Christmas Cards, tools, video game cartridges, books, hats, cups, change jars, etc... I know EXACTLY where everything is. ...uhh most of the time.

I could definitely use some help in the organization realm... I get stressed when my wife cleans my desk up, putting everything away in a tidy and neat manner where everything is supposedly accessible. All that happens is the consolidated clutter gets buried by new clutter material and renders the old clutter material dead and buried until the next move. God that's pathetic...

Fourth:
Indiscriminate Nose Picking...

I tend to have the ability to pick my nose free of boogers while having a deep and meaningful conversation without being distracted in the slightest. Unfortunately the person I am speaking with tends to be thrown off by the nostril finger sweep and sometimes look at me like I'm nuts... or just plain rude. *shrug* Nevertheless I can still blow people's minds with my cold hard logic and rational, historical contexts and get people to agree with me... all while diggin for gold.

I blame it on the dry desert climate here in Vegas... Gotta keep the pipes clean right?

Yeah, I'm wondering what my wife saw in me too...

and Finally!:
Complete inability to coordinate clothes...

I'm really questioning my wife's sanity now...
When my wife met me I wore the Air Force uniform... good ole BDU's. Can't mismatch those! But when she would see me on my days off, she noticed my total lack of fashion sense. I have no ability, check that, desire to match up clothes to look like a normal human being. If I sneak out of the house to run errands without a good look over by my incredibly well dressed and classy wife, I usually get greeted with the "I can't believe you wore that!!" upon reentry to the house. However, I find that dressing like a nincompoop is like having a force field around me in public that wards off those weird strangers who feel compelled to bore strangers with small talk.

My wife gets really ticked off when I dress the kids for school and I'm surprised that child protective services' fashion police division has yet to stop by our home... yet.

Well, that does it for me... I'm now off of the hook.

Perhaps this meme can be consolidated into a new book:
The 7 Habits of Highly Insane Bloggers.

My tagged list of five schmucks for this dopey meme:
Diane (completed, see here)
Daniel Levesque (completed, see here)
Mensa Barbie
Cathy
and Katey (completed see here, scroll down a bit)

Tag... now you are IT... good luck!

I promise to never do this again to any of you!