Right. How can we make this SF-ey?
Got it: I'll step into the transporter, whereupon I am split into good Mir and bad Mir--or is that strong Mir and weak Mir, given what happened to Cap'n Kirkie?
Whatever. Becca and Jason, this Mir's for you.
First, the rules:
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.
I'm not gonna do 3 or 4. I hope this doesn't bring a dread curse upon me, cause, you know, I'm just feeling all slacker today. Posting at eight different blogs sounds exhausting.
Okay, since I'm one of those that prefers the bad before the good (you know, the bad news/good news thing), I'll start with...
1~~I hide weapons all around the house. A hatchet here, a sharp cleaver there, a long kitchen knife under that, a medieval mace behind this. I grew up in a very bad neighborhood, and I learned early never to be far from a means of self-defense. (If hubby would let me get a gun, I'd have a few of those all around the house.) And when I open the front door, I keep a knife or club or something within reach.
Oh, stop looking at me like that!
2~~I pick at scabs. If I get a booboo, it's nearly impossible for me to just let the darn thing heal. I wanna rip off the scab as soon as it forms. Sometimes, I'm not even aware that I do it. And I rather like lapping the blood. Yeah, I know...gross.
3~~I pray just about every day for Fidel Castro to drop dead in great pain and agony. (And then I gotta confess about it. It's a total schizo drag.)
4. I almost killed someone once. This was back when I had terrible dark urges and a temper that, when it flared, was a dangerous and horrible thing. I'm really glad I didn't take a life. But, to be honest, she was such a scheming lowlife skank. (Ahem, I mean, I forgive her.)
5~~I'm afraid of the dark. Not as badly as I used to be--back when I needed full wattage even as I slept, or as bad as when I needed a closet light spilling into the room. No, I can sleep in a mostly dark room. But if it's pitch black, I start freaking. How wussy is that?
6~~I cry at romantic endings--in books or movies. When the guy gets the girl and that sappy music starts playing, or when they have the great smoochy last scene when virtue is rewarded and true love wins out, I, Wussy Mir start bawling. Hubby just tosses tissues at me and looks both perplexed and amused when this happens.
7~~I held our pet hamster Oblio in my hands when he drew his last rodenty breath. And then I bawled worse than I do at the end of romantic movies.
8~~I've never been out of the Eastern time zone. Born in it, raised in it, live in it, and must actually venture out of it before I die...mebbe.
Now, I bet you're real sorry I got tagged.