I love making stuff up

We don't have to tell the truth, do we? Because, frankly, Randal's truth isn't very exciting, though Randal likes to pretend that it is. Yes, in tribute of the greatest leadoff hitter ever, Randal is talking like Rickey.

"Randal is talking like a dumbass."

Anyway, Randal been ordered to come up with some randomly stochastic haphazardry.

The rules, chumps:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (Randal's still working on it)
2. Post the rules on your blog. (can't you read?)
3. Write six random things about yourself. (still trying to conjure up some falsehoods)
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. (Randal will get to it)
5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog. (that sounds too much like work to Randal)
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up. (you're dangerously close to cutting into Randal's porn-surfing time)

1. Once upon a time when Randal I was a wee lad, I was learning to play the violin but I quit after a few months because the teacher was the stereotypical, blue-haired, old school hardass refugee from Eastern Europe. Music is supposed to be fun, you fucking corpse. Well, I assume she's a corpse. If not, she's either pushing triple digits or found a way to cheat death, in which case, congratulations. Who knows, instead of having zero musical ability like I currently have, I could've grown up to suck.

2. Yes, I actually do hold conversations with myself from time to time and when they are voiced for all to hear, my kids find it outwardly amusing, though I'm sure they harbor concerns that their dad is a fucking lunatic which he probably is because he calls his oldest Doodily, which is a snippet of a winded Ned Flanders' rant from this hilarious episode that we both dig. Some families eat dinner together. We watch The Simpsons together.

3. Despite my sometimes-better-half and I promoting the notion that the only dumb question is the one never asked -- for example, Mr. President, when exactly did you decide to be a war criminal, before or after you found Jesus? -- my kids have become wary of asking me anything because I tend to go off on multiple tacks and end up finally answering their initial query about twenty minutes later. Everything may or may not be political, but everything is interrelated even if at a microscopic tangential level -- no, I'm not talking some bullshit karma crap. Karma doesn't fucking exist and history proves that -- and I hope that at least a few nuggets, the ones that will actually be helpful as they experience this simultaneously wonderful and ridiculous world, from my novocaine blatherings sink into their skulls.

4. I once had a threeway with Gillian Anderson and Kate Winslet. Okay, I made that one up. But I daydreamed about it once or twice.

5. I own two ties. This one is true.

6. All your onion ring are belong to us.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

I'm going to preemptively pardon myself for the murder of my brain.

Suckers: Miss Frenchie Frencherton, Freida of the Bees, Flying Nunly, Angie, La Belette Rouge, the soon-to-be ex-Pretzeldent.