Mr. D, I love you for using the word “transpire” correctly.

(posted by Faustus, M.D.)

I have never bitten my nails, but I have picked at them for thirty years. Luckily, they do not keep growing after they come off, which means (as we all know from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode in season four) that I am not a demon. Though I think the kids at school thought I was.

Not that I did myself any favors in that regard.

I once went to a junior high school dance (for those of you on the other side of the pond, that means ages twelve and thirteen) sporting a hideous black and white checked shirt, high tops with neon slinky laces, a bicycle chain, child molestor glasses, and bright green hairspray. When people asked me if I was gay (I ought to have known this would be inevitable), I said, “You wanna find out?”

Cool and uncool kind of had no meaning here. I was simply a pariah from another planet.

Which allowed me, of course, to go about my plans for world conquest unmolested.

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