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Everyone has their own special set of idiosyncracies. Perhaps you lust after school cafeteria trays that keep your green beans from rubbing up on your chicken tit; the thought of hot fruit – especially atop something non-sweet (like pizza) – may make you furiously nauseated; maybe your t-shirt drawer is organized by ROYGBIV; it could be you value coffee more than human companionship.

I use my nail clippings as a sort of lunar calendar. No, I don’t collect the bits of dead cell fragments to create a macaroni-and-construction-paper-style calendar with hundreds of crescent moons, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s weird.

I do, however, measure time in cycles of clipping. I didn’t ever consider this strange (or really consider it at all) until a recent grooming day. While clipping, I realized I was thinking, “Hey, only one more Idaho clipping before I’ll be clipping in Spain!” I know I’ve done this in Alaska too. When working 100 hours/week, routine personal maintenance becomes increasingly difficult to squeeze in after hours and before parties.

“Only two more cannery speed clips until a luxurious lower 48 beach party nail clipping!”

Next bizarre topic: WordPress blogs have a page that shows what search engine terms brought readers your way. So someone found my blog by searching for ‘pedo tales.’ This cracked my shit up. Pedo in Spanish = fart, so I began to visualize Duck Tales the animated series with fart clouds replacing all the duck characters. In another blog, I used the phrase “bien pedo” which I translate as “good n’ farty.” It’s Mexican slang for being drunk (along the lines of being “shitfaced” in English).

I clicked the link to this search with “Faaaart Taaaaales. Woo Hoo.” the theme song playing in my head. As the page opened, my song died off with that classic urgency of a record player arm screeching to a stop. There was my precious little blog nestled among all sorts of stories of sex with children. Apparently ‘pedo’ is actually ‘pedo.’ and an abbreviation. Huh.

We’ll see what kind of new readers I net with these last two paragraphs. If you’re reading now, hello deviants!

In related news, I have been substitute teaching for the high school Spanish teacher all week. Perhaps most shocking, I have had a great time. No, not just because of my proximity to nubile barely-legal (hello more pervert readers!) young men. I have really enjoyed teaching language which bodes well for my partially-formed plan to teach ESL and sell freelance stories from Latin America. The scheduled work hours, however, exhaust me and really cramp my bohemian (drunk) writer’s existence. But tomorrow is Friday, and the Gem State bar is already tickling my earlobe with its sirenesque melody which sounds a lot like a chorus of craggy potbellied loggers singing country karaoke. Irresistible!

In conclusion, use this weekend to celebrate your idiosyncracies full-force, and for anyone concerned: black, grey and white t-shirts have a separate non-spectrum row in the drawer.

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