Five things, five tags

Well well well… there are now five active bloggers from work other than me. (Oops, six, sorry… consider yourself tagged too!) There’s also a meme making the rounds that involves tagging five people to list five things about themselves that not many people know. And I don’t think we’ve actually had a full-on challenge going between the blogs yet—other than trying to keep up with Matt!—so it’s about frickin’ time!

To kick it off, here are my five things:

  1. My first real job was cataloguing tombstone inscriptions in a cemetery.
  2. From about a month after birth until I went to university I lived in only one house; my parents still live there today.
  3. I have a tic of sorts where I mentally count the letters, spaces and punctuation in phrases and sentences as if I were typing them. I derive a slight bit of pleasure from discovering multiples of eight and eleven.
  4. I once wrote a program that replaced all of the Commodore 64’s text (38911 BYTES FREE, READY., etc.) with its German equivalent.
  5. I broke my finger punching a clown-shaped garbage receptacle at Rainbow Valley in Cavendish, PEI.

4 thoughts on “Five things, five tags”

  1. My mother used the idea of visiting cemeteries and doing pencil rubbings of interesting inscriptions that she saw. I don’t know if she ever actually did it or not, but she certainly liked mentioning it.

    Was your clown attack part of a life-long hatefest toward the smiling bastards, or just a drunken folly?

  2. Hmm, somehow typed “My mother used the idea” when I meant “My mother liked the idea”.. I wonder what that means, besides the fact that I don’t proofread nearly as well as PJ does??

  3. You’ve seen Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid? Clowns are my version of cleaning women. 🙂

    Actually, seen from a distance, the garbage pails were just about the right size and shape to be clown punching bags. After a game of oversized checkers, my sister challenged me to a race across to them; I won, and in celebration I hauled off and smacked one at full tilt. Several hours later, halfway across the province, I was outfitted with what amounted to a glorified splint and my father took me back to the park where my mother, sister and brother had been having a grand old time without us (or so I imagine).

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