Pedicures. I don’t get it. It’s just soooo gross!!!!! Not only do I not want to touch other people’s feet, I don’t want strangers touching MY feet. I just can’t think of anything more disgusting than that. It’s just awkward and NO THANK YOU!!
My friend recently got her “toes done”. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve had this discussion with her. LOTS, okay? LOTS. She tells me “You just gotta go get your feet done, it feels so good.” and while she’s talking I’m doing whatever I can to shake off the case of heebie jeebies she’s giving me while at the same time shooting her offer down. She knows how I feel about “Feet” yet, she always talks to me like someday she’s gonna change my mind about it. Well, guess what? SHE’S NOT!! NO MA’AM!!!!!!
Raw Chicken. I will have a full on siezure if I ever have to touch raw chicken. I have a box of latex gloves that I wear when I have to handle it. And, if I run out of latex gloves? You’d be surprised at how well I can manage with two baggies or two forks so that my fingers don’t have to touch it. I’m like a damn circus act or something. I need my own show in VEGAS!
Nirvana. Okay…so maybe it’s not a “phobia” per se, but I feel a strong dislike for Nirvana. I have the same disdain for Curt Cobain. What a fucking SELL OUT! Sure, kill yourself, who gives a shit. And also, I’m from Seattle…so don’t give me any crap over this one. It takes about 2 measures of ANY of their songs before I get a major case of the ass for whoever is in charge of the damn radio/iPod/Zune selection. It. Never. Fails. And if I have PMS? Fuhgidabouddit! You may as well kiss your mama goodbye, cuz HOMIE DON’T PLAY DAT!!
I have this “thing” about chips. It’s okay if I’ve got one of those little snack bags that you hold on to and grab one out at a time…it’s when you dump some on my plate that the sideshow heads to crazyville. I kinda like to sort them. Here’s how this shakes down.
- I separate all the ones that are whole. No corners or chunks taken out. Set those aside. DO NOT EAT THESE YET! GOD FORBID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- I then line up all the broken bits and starting with the smallest bits, I work my way up to the biggest broken bits. Eat from the smallest to the largest “bit”.
- Now that all the broken bits are gone, I feel that I’ve paid homage to the “Good little soldiers” who made it to me in tact and survived UNHARMED during the shipping and packaging process. I line up the ones that made it to my plate whole and in tact and proceed with sizing them up. Those that are all curled over go first – yep, DOWN THE HATCH! Eventually coming down to the one’s that lay perfectly flat and eating the smallest of the whole ones first, ending with the largest or the most flat.
Please don’t call the nutfarm. And also, QUIT JUDGING ME! I bet you’re weird too. Go ahead…tell me how weird you are. I dare you. No, I double-dog dare you…