I was tagged by that Suns-loving malcontent Laurie. Thanks. I really needed this on top of the still-stinging humiliation of that caning my beloved Mavs received the other night. But I'm a trooper, so here goes nothing. 6 Weird Things About Me

1. I don't eat cheese. At all. Not because I'm allergic or lactose-intolerant - I just hate the stuff. But the weird part is, I eat pizza like it's going out of style. But not calzones, even though it's the EXACT same cheese. My cheese detector is so good, I can tell when any dish has cheese in it, no matter how small the amount. No one slips cheese by me.
2. I have a mild foot fetish. I love nicely pedicured feet. Summer is a good/bad time for me, because although there are more exposed feet to see, there are also more exposed rough, ashey, tore-up feet to see, and no one wants to see that.
3. I'm left-handed, but only for 4 tasks: eating, writing, shooting pool, and brushing teeth. Everything else I do right-handed, including...well, like I said, everything else.
4. I cut my own hair, because I have a thing about feeling a barber's sausage on my shoulder while he's leaning into me trying to reach the other side of my massive head. Plus, I had a barber who stuttered and watched basketball games while he was cutting hair. One day he sliced of a significant portion of my 'fro because of something Julius Erving did on the court. He looked at it, half-smiled, and said "T-t-t-th-th-th-this one's o-o-o-o-o-on the h-h-h-h-h-h-house, ok?"
5. I HAVE to have cookies in my cereal. And the cookies must be either chocolate chip or oreos, no exceptions. I place the cookie in the bottom of the bowl, cover it with a little milk, then add whatever cereal I'm eating for the day, then add the rest of the milk. Then I take a spoon, grind up the softened cookie, and try to scoop up spoonfuls of cookie with each bite of cereal. This is in lieu of adding about a half a cup of sugar to all cereals, even the ones pre-coated with sugar. Hello, diabetes!
6. I cannot take a dump if there's anyone within a 40 foot radius of my location. If I'm in a public restroom, already going, I will STOP if anyone walks in, and I won't start again until the restroom is completely empty. At summer camps when I was young, I wouldn't crap for the entire week because it wasn't private enough in the restrooms. Buses and planes? Forget it. I have to be SICK AS HELL to use those facilities. In college, coming home from a road trip to Maryland, I got a case of food poisoning, and was being a real trooper, trying to hold the floodgates closed until we got back to Clemson. But when we hit Charlotte, we hit traffic, and I hit the wall. I had to go, and go right that instant. So I did. In the tiny, windowless bus bathroom. With the non-flushing toilet. When I came out, the entire back half of the bus had moved to the front of the bus, and everyone was looking at me like "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!" And they weren't joking. For the remaining 2 hours of the trip, I sat alone in the back of the bus. Good times.