Showers are the shit...

As anyone who has ever lived with me would likely attest, I can spend an exorbitant amount of time in the shower. To be fair to me, I’ve gotten much more conservative with my water usage as the adult times have taken hold. There was, however, a time (worst during those high school years if I recall correctly) when I could literally spend an hour or more draining the house of all hot water. Even now, when I’ve seemingly cut that time down to ten minutes or less, I have a tendency to wait until everyone else is asleep and get in another twenty minutes or so without worries of forcing my roommates to endure a frigid deluge. It’s an illness, an obsession, and my personal great love story. A love story as old as time…or at least as old as me. Whoever I end up marrying will have to accept the shower as our third member in matrimony, because I dare not trade away my time in the steamy waters for anyone. And just why is that, you ask?

Beautiful Inconvenience...

Having been born in the shaft of America’s penis, I am no stranger to extreme weather phenomena or the effects they seem to have. Hurricanes the size of Texas (or larger), tornadoes strong enough to wipe out entire trailer parks, wild fires complete with exploding palm trees, droughts that go on forever, floods to drown even the heaviest of duty vehicles, sunburns through t-shirts, trudging ever on in the gelatinous humidity and wishing you had a knife to cut your way through, winds whipping debris around fast enough to slice your limbs off…these are my childhood companions. We Floridians know how to party, let me tell you. As fun as all that sounds (and some of it really can be fun), each and every one of those things is on the list of reasons why I chose to leave Florida in a permanent kind of way.

The Animal Within...

If you were an animal, what would you be?

Seems like a simple enough question, right? All you have to do is close your eyes, search deep within yourself, release your inner child from the shackles of adulthood for a moment or two and let ‘em go to town. Every animal that has ever appeared cool, groovy, nifty, awesome, badass or in any other way even remotely the shit to you in your entire life will be put on rapid display behind your eyelids. Within mere moments, you and your itty bitty childhood self sort through images of winged assassins and slithering poison factories, furry bundles of cuteness and scales with teeth. All of these scenes play out in a matter of seconds. Feverishly, the two of you whittle away at the choices until you reach the conclusion that seems to be the most logical conclusion of all conclusions ever to have been concluded. Jeez, I don’t even know why you had to ask such a question. I can see it so clearly in my mind’s eye now…I thought it would be obvious.

I am a mother fucking dragon.