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My name is Darren and I can benchpress 400 pounds!!! My hobbies include working out, eating, and lying about how much I can benchpress. When I read signs, product labels, names, etc., I try rearranging the letters to spell something else. This is why I wish my parents named me Darret.
I am often very quiet, which some mistaken for cockiness, arrogance, etc., but in reality, I'm really shy around people I don't know. So if I'm not talking to you, it's because you didn't ask me anything. I grew up ugly and therefore, have the mentality of an ugly. I don't approach people, I don't hang out in well lit areas, and sometimes I have a hard time looking people in the eyes, because when I was younger, these behaviors resulted in people vomiting and/or beating me with heavy objects. Actually, that may not be accurate. I'd delete it, but I like it. Perhaps I'm quiet when I'm thinking. Most often, I'm thinking of something funny to say, wishing I was somewhere else, with someone else, or imagining what it might be like to have sex with you.
I have SOME perfectionist habits. I reread everything I write and wonder if there is a better way of wording it.
I file my nails about every 2 - 3 weeks, using a series of 4 files of increasing smoothness. See... I'm rereading that and wondering if I should've said "increasing grit" but I'm not sure if "grit" is the right word or if higher grit refers to the number or the coarseness. Now look at me... "coarseness"? What the hell am I saying?
I listen to my radio at volume increments that are multiples of 5.
I like interrupting people, but I'll plot to kill you if you interrupt me. And if you interrupt my plotting, your death will be slow and painful, assuming the plotting continues after you've shut your mouth.
I have a Jack Russell Terrier named Minnie, who enjoys raping my other dog's face. My mom yells at her when she does it, but I always secretly reward her, so she'll continue to entertain me. The dog, that is. The only thing I reward my mom with is my dirty laundry, ridiculous rate of food consumption, and unrelenting disappointments like dropping out of school every semester and living at home well into my 20s.
I have a big nose that I try to keep tidy with my Panasonic nosehair trimmer. Sometimes things will get caught in the hair: dust, food, small animals, etc. I once blew a snot rocket and freed a ground squirrel.
I was in the ARMY shortly after 9.11 to become a military intelligence analyst (because I'm really, really smart), but unfortunately they kicked me out when they found out I lied about everything. In the several months I was there, I learned to fire many-an-assault weapon. Oh, and I’m officially an “expert†at throwing hand grenades. So you can add that shit to my skills.
My love for animals is exceeded only by my love for shooting animals. I once beat a rabbit to death with a stick. Does that make me a bad person? I used to think so until I found out my friend Bobby beat a cat to death.
I think most Frito Lay chips are disgusting, but specifically Doritos. Possible exceptions: Baked Lays and Sun Chips. I try not to eat fast food, but Del Taco is like uncut heroin to me.
I hate the way the little wheel on my chapstick turns in my pocket so when I try to discretely apply it in public, I pop the cap off and the squishy part is all over the place. Then you spin the wheel the other way but it won't reverse so you have to push it back down with your mouth, which puts way too much on and you're stuck having to move your lips around to get an even coating.
I put my own AOL screen name on my buddy list so that every time I sign on, I have a friend. And it feels good. I'm under the group name "Supermodels."
I've been told many times that I'm not living up to my potential. At first I felt pressured to achieve more, but I realize now that if I can just lower my potential (aka drink myself stupid) I can escape this burden of guilt and failure.
I'm a clean freak, and as such I shower several times a day. I shower after I wake up, before I go to work, after I come home from work, after the gym, after I crap, and after I beat my puppy, because that stinker leaves a smelly residue on my knuckles (and sometimes my elbows and feet, depending on how violent the beating was).
My style of humor is sarcasm. I love being offensive and I love attention. If I write something outrageous and you're offended by it... fuck off and stop bothering me.
Oh... and one more thing. If you're some kind of wannabe sword fighter, don't come at me unprepared. I will bear down on your boot knife with my battle-axe.