I have two legs, two arms, two of lots of things I suppose.
Yes, I have a tattoo - inquiring minds can find it in a photo somewhere.
Guitars, motorcycles and mountain bikes are my escape . And I have a one-finger salute to any doctor that tells me I can't do any of those anymore.
I have, however, found that mountain bike night rides are a bigger rush, and that mud from John Muir is impossible to get out.
I'm also fairly certain that one can reach enlightenment somewhere over 190 MPH. Doin that while in a wheelie, however,
should slide you right through enlightenment to Sainthood.
I have loads of friends , most of whom I miss dearly. You know who you are - that
I'm unable to talk to you doesn't mean you're not on my mind.
I have secrets that only a select few will ever hear, and have been burdened with secrets that I'd like to forget.
One secret I can share now: I'm a horrid dancer. Like epilepsy meets the mentally challenged then breeds with a sloth.
Poetry in motion, I am not.
I love impersonating japanese accents. Sorry - no matter how many sensitivity trainings I go through
I still find "Herro? Rissen rady, you go now" amusing. So sue me. And those little pointy rice patty hats.
Funnier still.
I'm prone to taking day-long jaunts through geek-ville - comes with being an IT specialist.
I'm also prone to taking long siestas roaming the web while at work - comes with being a government employee.
I believe I'll soon set the record for number of blocked sites visited while working in a government office.
I'm not sure but I think that will get me an award of some kind.
I'm a born shopper. And spender. Those probably have something to do with my not having a dollar in my wallet.
I buy a lot that I don't need. Then I give it away. It pays to be around when I clean house.
I think far too many people have forgotten to be themselves. I am me - for better or worse. At this particular moment though, I'm not entirely certain who I am or where I'm going. I did lose me once.
I found me in my underwear with a bad hairdo and an Atari shirt on. If that was you - whoever you were - I'm sorry.
I hope I made a good pillow. It had nothing to do with brothers Jack or Jim. Miller, however, may have had something to do with it.
I was born in Montana, and have lived in Colorado, California, Alaska, Wisconsin, Florida, and Illinois. Florida blows. Not just the wind during a huricane either. California isn't much better - unless you don't know English - you'll be safe there if that's the case.
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