I’ve seen a lot of posts here and there where people share little tidbits of themselves. Posts with names like “pieces of me” and the like. Kind of a cool idea, so I figured “why the hell not?” so I’m doing it too, just without numbers. I’m a bit of a title snob I guess, then again that’s something you probably all know about me already, nothing new there.
Well then, let’s see what we can dig out of the toybox of my soul today shall we?
I’m kind of a redneck, that should open some eyes and make ya’ll say WHAT?! That’s right, you heard it here first. I like country music, hunting and fishing. I also like drinkin good old cheap-assed beer while sittin on a tailgate. I know how to skin a deer, and I think catfish tastes incredible when you eat it the same day that you caught it. Once upon a time I even owned an old beat up pickup with a granny shifter. I’m country and southern, sue me.
What else can we dig up about me that I haven’t talked about before? Frankly this is bloody HARD, since I don’t worry about telling my readers everything.
I’m also incredibly BAD at talking about myself if there isn’t a point. I only came up with mentioning the country thing because Travis Tritt started singing “Country Club” in my headphones.
Speaking of music, (why not right?) I also am a fan of acapella pieces and groups like Pentatonix. My working playlist runs the gamut from opera to eighties metal and back around to Trace Adkins and Louis Armstrong. Yeah, it’s like THAT in my head. I used to sing in choirs and chorus when I was young, and I even learned to play drums while singing. By the way, since when did liking Nickelback make you lame? I didn’t get that memo.
Did you know that your favorite lunatic self-help writer is also a lover of cars? I love the rumble of a big block chevy V8, or the slow thump of a Mopar powered monster. I helped build a winning drag car when I was in high school, and I can still diagnose some car problems just by listening to them idle. I would LOVE to own an old muscle car or a stripped down T-bucket. Or a Harley maybe, they are wicked cool too.
When I was younger, people thought I was a Hell’s Angel. I don’t know why, maybe it was the belt buckle, or the shades, or the leather jacket, or the denim vest with the colors flying on the back. Or it could have been that I hung out with a buncha bikers. Nahhh. You’d ever guess that I was an “A” student and considered one of three “outstanding youths” in my community. That was an odd label to see me with.
I learned long ago to let my colors show, and see what comes next. How about you? What colors are YOU flying on your freak flag?