In case you missed the first 3 installments of this gripping series, a short recap:

Half the folks in Blogland have a 100 Things list, in which they detail 100 miscellaneous facts about themselves, usually along the lines of "I love synchronized swimming," and "I have 9 cats." I thought about doing this, but everything I thought of to say about myself sounded like a hideous flaw. Therefore, I give you my list of 100 Things Wrong With Me. I have to post it in installments, or its sheer bulk would break the internet. Here's #31-40.

31. I have over-trained my Rottweiler, to the point where she’s no longer an imposing guard dog, but more of a fluffy bunny.

32. I can’t sing. Not much use at dancing, either. I used to go dancing a lot when I was younger, though, which means I'm either not as bad at it as I think, or I used to have no idea how bad I was at it. That might have had something to do with the copious quantities of alcohol I consumed. (However, I was never so drunk that I thought I could sing.)

33. When telemarketers call, I don't bother with politely declining their offer; instead, I unceremoniously hang up on them. It usually goes something like this:
Me: "Hello?"
Telejackass: "Hello! I'd like to take just a moment of your time to..."
Click.

34. If you've read this blog for more than two entries, you probably know this, but I'm irrationally scared of bugs. Strangely, the ones that scare me the most are not the ones that could actually hurt me, like wasps or spiders. I'm most scared of June bugs and grasshoppers. Mostly it's their crazy kamikaze nature that I find unsettling. A grasshopper can be over there, looking that way, and you'll think, "Oh, he's not interested in me, he's looking the other way. Probably doesn't even see me." Then, without any warning, without turning his head or body, he will suddenly catapult straight into your forehead like a terrorist sacrificing himself to attack his enemy. Oh, and when I see a bug, I don't just jump up and flee the scene, I first emit a high-pitched screech that would lead a bystander to believe I am being eaten alive by no less than 7 lions. This makes me look incredibly stupid, and believe me, I have tried to suppress that infernal, ridiculous girly noise. It has a life of its own.

35. I hate peppy people. I want to stab them with a pom-pom handle.

36. I like to use our digital camera to take hideous photos of myself making ugly faces, then laugh like a madman as I look at them. My husband can almost always be seen nearby, shaking his head and wondering how to get out of this marriage. I thought about posting one here for an example, but that would mean sifting through the hundreds of photos to pick one. At which point I'd probably just start cackling like psycho, and nothing would get accomplished.

37. When people repeat themselves over and over, it inspires me to kill. For instance:

Dum-Dum: Can you pick me up at the airport at 5? Because my plane comes in at 4:30, so that should give me just enough time to get through baggage claim. My mom was going to pick me up, but she can't get off work.
Me: Sure, I'll be there at 5 to get you.
Dum-Dum: Great. Because my plane comes in at 4:30, so that should give me just enough time to pick up my bags at baggage claim.
Me: Okay, sounds great. See you then.
Dum-Dum: Thanks a lot, that's a big help. My mom was going to pick me up, but it looks like she won't be able to get off work.
Me: No problem. I'll be there at 5.
Dum-Dum: Awesome. That'll be just about right, because I'll pick up my bags at the baggage claim after my plane comes in at...(interrupted by my fingernails gouging him in the eyeballs).

38. I hate pork. It just seems suspicious to me.

39. I find Spam hilarious. I could never bring myself to eat it, because I'm pretty sure it's not actually food, but Spam plays a big part in my life. One of my most prized possessions is my Spam snow globe.
I have a Spam merchandise catalog which delights me to no end. You can order Spam wine glasses, a Spam onesie for your baby, a Spam ice scraper, a Spam hair scrunchie, Spam sunglasses...the list goes on and on. There are hundreds of things in there! Does anyone else find this hilarious? No? Well, screw you.

40. I used to use this keychain. My husband hated it. I thought it was hilarious, even when I would absent-mindedly forget how crude it was and casually set it on the counter in stores as I was paying for my purchases. Only when I saw the clerk staring slack-jawed at me did I remember my offensive keychain--and I also realized then that not as many people saw the movie Kill Bill as I had assumed when I bought the thing. Still, I thought it was funny, if only for how horrified my husband was by it. Then I got pregnant. There's nothing funny about waddling around with a big pregnant belly and a Pussy Wagon keychain. At first I thought I'd put the keychain away for the remainder of my pregnancy, and then use it again afterward...but don't worry, it only took me a few moments to realize that the only thing worse than seeing a pregnant chick with a Pussy Wagon keychain is seeing a chick carrying an infant and a Pussy Wagon keychain. So I gave it away, with much sadness in my heart.

Labels: 100 Things Wrong With Me, I need therapy