So if you don't know yet, there's this "meme" thing going around: 8 Things.
The Eightfold Way:
Order: Proclaim the Eightfold Way.
Enlightenment: Reveal 8 mysteries regarding yourself -- your Pieces of 8.
Creation: Musketeers (see below) must produce their own Pieces of 8 and reiterate the EIghtfold Way.
Recruitment: Choose 8 Musketeers to tag and list their names.
Awareness: Inform each Musketeer of their privileged status, and to enlighten themselves on your Pieces of 8.
As you already know from first-grade recess, rules are meant to be broken. So, one of the below will be a previously mysterious half-truth about someone else:
On nature...
I have an unhealthy fascination with David Attenborough. If he narrates a documentary, I automatically love it. It could be a history of rapper clothing trends in Minnesota, and I'd be riveted: "Behind me is a small group of Minneapolis rappers displaying clothing unique to their species, and indeed, their clan. But, what exactly are they wearing? Let's... take a look."
My eyes would be glued to the screen for the next hour, guaranteed.
On secrets...
Keyword: EIGHTFOLDWAY
MPGCX FBFQD EYPBN FYFGN LJARM WTDBY VNLLH CVAGM
XBMPD NSYKW OKXHW OHZTM AZOAX RMZZJ ELMOS HIWCR
UWMYR LZYBJ RXBDA LHIZJ KFQVL JGRLM LPKXH EZKPY
VBYVY PFJSP OQMJX VDJHS HBIPW BUUXG MEKAW YCBNP
LNGLY EGCRM XLVND SHNBS XGUBD SCHWD ARFGT VPICY
WUOS
On nutrition...
I will try anything that:
a. is/was alive (which rules out pebbles, pure salt, mercury, and Chevy Malibus.)
b. Isn't poisonous (no live scorpions for this guy, though fugu doesn't count)
c. has been recommended by someone who's already eaten it. (there goes patent leather and deer antler)
So far, this has gotten me flash-fried cicadas, drunken shrimp (taken very literally), sea cucumber, sea urchin omelette, turtle eggs, live lobster tail (not recommended, unless you like sticky Jello that tastes like the sea), duck tongue, foie gras, pig's blood, black ant soup, fermented tofu, rattlesnake-scorpion wine, mule jerky, ... and diced dog.
My girlfriend of two years has owned dogs all her life, albeit not for food. This may be a problem down the line.
(No, I haven't eaten testicles yet. Yes, I will try them if you treat me to them, and if you eat them with me.)
I also generally don't like sweets aside from dark chocolate, ice cream, gelato, and big soft chocolate chip cookies.
On worldliness...
One of my life goals is to say "I've been to every continent except [one of the continents]."
It'd be wicked cool (cold?) if that one continent wasn't Antarctica. Of course, another life goal would be to be able to say "I've been to every continent."
I think the former would have to come first, though. I don't think "I disown South America as part of my travels!" works all too well.
On ambition...
It's been a dream of mine to run into a major clothing store sans pants (with boxers, though), screaming "MY GOD, I NEED PANTS! WON'T ANYONE FIND ME SOME PANTS?!"
This would be hilarious. It would also need to be right before I change my name and move to a different locale. Byron Finkledilly and Belgium, for example.
On puberty...
I've sung Mass as part of a church choir in my youthier youth. I was part of a select boys' choir in middle school, and one of the other guys asked me if I wanted to be paid to sing in a choir. I will always remember that moment as a turning point in my life, when I abandoned hearty personal virtues and principles in exchange for a debilitating quest for money. I asked if the singing was religious in nature, and my friend assured me it wasn't. My mother was strangely angry when she found out I was singing Mass. I just knew I was getting money for the same thing I did in private school.
Oh, and I sang soprano then.
On weakness...
I have no known allergies. Of course, I've also never been stung by a bee. This may be a problem when I open a honey farm. I have had peanuts, though, so I know that I won't run the risk of catastrophic death if I eat something that was processed in a factory which, five years ago, had a janitor who ate peanut butter sandwiches every other Tuesday.
On identity...
I'm half-Dutch, a quarter-Irish, and a quarter-German. I was adopted by a Chinese couple when I was 2. Thus, the incongruity between my first and last names. Sis wool also esplain why I doan type wiss Chinee assen. I've met a number of Asian kids adopted by white parents, who've become full-fledged bananas, but I've only met one other like me. I feel so alone at times.
On PR...
I've been on CNN, speaking about the sociopolitical impact and ubiquity of music in the modern world. I was nine, and I had no idea I was speaking about such grand issues at the time. There was a big camera in front of me, a strange man was asking me questions, and he was thrusting a microphone at me very eagerly.
My 8 Musketeers:
*wookie, badkungfu, Brad Farris.
If you think there aren't 8 people there, count again:
*wookie, badkungfu, Brad Farris.
See? You were right the first time.
