Bullshit Facts About Myself (Work Edition)

Open up work email; hey, we're having everyone in for a meeting! (Yea, I know, that's a rough open, but it's the best I can do on a Tuesday.)

And to make things even more douchetastic, we’re going to be doing-wait for it-ice breakers! I have been asked to forward three random facts about myself. As a struggling writer and accomplished asshole, I find myself conflicted. This makes me feel happy, because most edgy writers seem to have some sort of conflict that is fuel. The angel on my shoulder says to get in the spirit of the thing and offer appropriate facts. The devil on my shoulder says let’s make wild shit up. And since the bar likes to take this thing called “money” in exchange for the ambrosia that is “alcohol,” I think the angel wins out this time. But the devil is the one that mostly writes these blogs and my better stories.

 I mean, it could be worse. What’s worse than ice breakers? (You know you know the answer, you just don’t wanna say it.) Role playing! No, not the sexy kind with cable guys, pool boys or where the chick gets “stuck.” No, the kind of role playing where there are totally unrealistic situations and you respond by spouting out company jargon. Can we please just move past this? Isn’t there a PowerPoint we need to see or something?

And this is exactly why I need to be a writer; for the life of me I can’t come up with even three interesting facts about my boring ass. Instead, all these come out. So while I struggle to come up with three facts that make me seem like the Most Interesting Man in the Room and impress the lone hot girl, I will use my time by doing what I apparently do best; screwing around and making no additional money. Maybe my high school guidance counselor was right about me.

As I envision it, these “facts” will be read aloud in a cold meeting room.

Three swigs of whiskey, first thing in the morning, every morning.

I like to crop dust meeting rooms.

I think that people who look at Facebook while they are supposed to be working are big, fait, hairy losers.

I was the sixth grade spelling champ. (True). The winning word was apodyopsis.

This was quite popular in Catholic school.

Taylor Swift wrote a song about me.

There’s so many lies on my resume, I’ve honestly forgotten what’s true and what’s not.

I have eleven fingers. (Watch everyone else look around the room.)

I had successful gender reassignment surgery.

A year later, I changed my mind and had another successful gender reassignment surgery.

I write a wildly successful blog.

When I was a child, my class went on a field trip to the local zoo. We went into the snake house. No one knew that a poisonous snake got loose. Before anyone could stop it, the snake bit me. And then I bit that sunna bitch right back.

I see a shrink 3 times a week for what he’s termed “murderous tendencies.”

I’ve appeared on American Idol. And The Voice. And The Four. And Rockstar; INXS. And Nashville Star. And every other POS music reality show you morons can’t seem to get enough of.

Every pair of underwear I own says “Tuesday.”

I dated Ms. Wisconsin, then dumped her for Ms. North Dakota.

This is really the current Ms. North Dakota. Eyebrows kinda on fleek, but not too shabby.

I played pro lacrosse in my early 20s.

I was a professional foot model. (OK, inside joke, I once wrote for a blog under a redic fake name-we all did-and those last two facts were in my bio. Good times.)

Connor McGregor is afraid of me.

I was in a famous viral video. I didn’t know those two girls, but I did supply what was in the cup.

I wasn’t born in America. I was born in one of those shithole countries.

I have a patent for the 27^th letter of the alphabet.

I run marathons in my spare time.

I read every email and enjoy working nights and weekends.

I changed the signature in my email to “Holla at ya boy” and no one has ever noticed.

My last concert was Luke Bryan. He’s great. Especially when he’s wearing a cap.

Tell me there's some sort of machine somewhere that just churns out all these dudes that look the same.

I enjoy independent films in my downtime.

I find role playing a useful and worthwhile exercise during these meetings.

Best piece of business advice I ever got; don’t shit where you eat. And on an unrelated note, sorry, Gina, but it’s over. Stop sitting next to me.