1) THE COMMUTER

I ride the bus to work every day, even though Houston is a car town and the public transportation system really, really sucks.

It started as an economical need. I was unemployed for a long time, then paid jack squat by a company run by a ruthless robber-baron who exploited hard-luck cases while spending fortunes at the rodeo auction and naming-rights for a bowl game, which he appears to have defaulted on. Car payments, gas prices, and insurance were just too much of a chunk out of my meager check, so I went with the bus.

It was great at the original office location. I'd bus to work and walk 40 minutes home for exercise. I felt great, I lost weight, and I had time to listen to mp3 files and, eventually, podcasts

When the office moved, I carpooled, but one after another, the coworkers who I carpooled with bailed out.

Now, I take the bus every day and transfer Downtown. It eats up an unreasonable amount of my day every day, but I use the opportunity to read, listen to podcasts, or nap so I can catch up on sleep.

I still bear a ton of resentment towards the company owner who stole an additional hour of my life by needlessly moving the offices up here when he kept his own office and executive staff with him at the old location for as long as possible, but the office is moving to Downtown, so I will get that hour back and I am promising myself to use part of that to hit the gym and walk o nthe treadmill.

While listening to podcasts, of course.

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2) THE YID

When it comes to my Judaism, I'm not very observant. The most obvious evidence of this is the fact that I enjoy pork chops, ham, and bacon. I figure that the prohibitions were based on the dangers of eating undercooked swine products. The easiest way to educate the public is to make a religious restriction or prohibition against what is dangerous for them. So, living in modern times, I chalk this one up to superstition and think for myself.

If anything, I loosely retain the label as a conversation piece. As someone who bears a scientific college degree (BA Evolutionary Biology and Ecology), it's hard to accept all the mumbo-jumbo of the supernatural and the spiritual, so I wouldn't say that my faith is based on a willingness to believe any scripture as infallible and unerring. It's more based on "Well, it had to happen somehow, right?"

It's also the simplest way to express my vehement Zionist agenda, since most people read "Zionist" as "Jewish" instinctively when it comes to their method of protests. I mean why else would Ukranians, Romanians, French, Italians, and others desecrate Jewish cemeteries and synagogues, but then backpedal and scream "We're against the occupation, not against Jews!"

Yeah. Right. Good one there, Slappy.

Then why are you spraypainting headstones and pissing on the graves of dead Jews i nthe local cemetery, who are likely your countrymen and not actual Israelis?

Schmucks. And even bigger dumbeff schmucks in the international press and various world governments who give these sons-a-bitches a pass.

Likely, because the international press, members of various governments, and their readership/viewership/minions/voters/oppressed masses are mostly dumbeff schmucks, lapping this garbage up.

It's also a great way to piss off extremist, radical, and fake-moderate Muslims out there (ie. CAIR). If the conversation turns to "BEHEAD THE INFIDEL!" I'm certainly willing to back my Purfuit Of Life, Liberty, and Happineff with my Second Admendment rights as well as Texas' Castle Law.

I'm sure the first thing you'll hear from Satan when you get to Hell is "Nice grouping."

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3) THE BOOKWORM

My wife and I read a lot of books. We've got a lot of overflowing bookshelves in various rooms as well as stacks of books in a few places. She reads in her easy chair in the living room while I try to read outside on the patio or during my disturbingly long commute into work. The footstool in the bathroom is more of a book-platform because both of us read in the tub. Every so often, Nardo will bump against a stack of books and bring the pile tumbling down.

My favorite book, without a doubt, is Alice in Wonderland, especially the Annotated Alice version, although Paul Steadman's illustrations of the work are a rare instance where he hasn't just thrown together incoherent, drug-soaked crapscribble. If I'm quoting Dodgson, I'm in a good mood.

The image of Cee as Alice in Wonderland at SL Woodstock was a hat-tip to the book, although it was just as much a hat-tip to Genesis' "Nursery Cryme" album where instead of hedgehogs, "Alice" is shown with severed heads. (Although I gave her a scythe instead of a mallet - scythe is the new black, you know.)

Fight Club is a close second (Palahniuk rules!) If I'm quoting the book or the movie, you know I'm in a particularly foul mood. Palahniuk can craft the ultimate cynic, modern misanthrope, and human alien and then stick them in the most absurd, miserable situations, but they are almost entirely believable.

However, Palahniuk is dipping into the Stephen King realm of impossibility these days, now that he's gone all supernatural and metaphysical with the premise behind Rant. Just as King is good when he doesn't need all sorts of magical, supernatural crap (ie Shawshank Redemption), so is Palahniuk.

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4) THE effED-UP NEUROTIC

I bit my nails from the earliest time I could remember. I even collected the nail clippings in a glass container, although I'm not sure why. I think it was just something to be obsessive and compulsive about, or to keep from swallowing the nail-clippings. I stopped biting my nails when Piper died, and I carried a Swiss Army Penknife on my keyring so I could use the clippers on there. O'Hare airport goods took the clippers after SLCC, but I got a new set last week.

Compulsive habits are so fun, aren't they? Like the fact that my drink of choice is diet Coke and a splash Amaretto, but I've switched to Coke Zero recently. Also, I've taken a break from Amaretto and have been using Jack Daniels. When the bottle runs out, I'll go back to Amaretto. I think I'll be sticking with the Coke Zero, though.

I'll dream about my cell phone going off and wake up suddenly and try to answer it. Old habit from a job I once had where I'd get called at weird hours. So, I'd change the ringer to fool myself, but the dream-ringer would change, too. Then I set the phone to vibrate and put it under my pillow, but a cat purring next to me would make me think the phone was going off... YOU CAN'T WIN!

And I still see Piper out of the corner of my eye and hear her collar and yip every so often. The human brain tends to fill things in visually and auditorially for faster processing of information, but this results in "ghosting" phenomenon like what I am experiencing. Knowing this for a fact, it still doesn't make it any easier.

This all fits into my theory: We're all damaged and effed up.

How it's expressed and to what extent, well, that's what makes us unique.

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5) THE GOOD FATHER

Fancy Feast calls it "Chicken Hearts and Livers." I call it "Chicken Butts and Noses."

"Who wants Chicken Butts and Noses?"
"Meow!" "Meow!"
"Who wants Chicken Butts and Noses?"
"Meow!" "Meow!"
"Who wants Chicken Butts and Noses?"
"Meow!" "Meow!"
"Did you say your kitty prayers?"
"Meow!" "Meow!"
"Okay, here's your din-din."

It's mostly gravy, but Edloe loved this stuff. Frisky loves it too, but more for the gravy and not the "butts and noses" parts.

And, yes, I talk baby-talk and LOLCat-tak to the cats when the microphone is off. (Just ask the people who have caught me having long discussions with Nardo while on SL with Voice or on the podcast, okay?)

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6) THE TWISTED BASTARD

I am a huge fan of Edward Gorey, grim illustrator and writer.

It started with an activity book based on his warped pictures. All of his odd characters were used as the basis for various games, and one illustration jumped out at me: The Angel of Death in a Victorian suit with the caption "I am not a liar."

Sure, it was in the context of a "Who's lying?" game where all the characters claimed truth or accused others of falsehood. But the Grim Reaper jumped out at me.

The Doubtful Guest was another creation that stuck with me. When I finally saw a narration and semi-animation of this piece on PBS, it was like magic. It represented the elephant in the room... the thing that families don't ever discuss. The emotional baggage, manifested into a strange dark shaggy creature with sneakers going around and making a nuisance of himself everywhere.

Gorey, Douglas Adams, reruns of The Addams Family, Monty Python... I was raised on this stuff, and it helped shape me into the individual I am today. Whether or not I gravitated to it naturally or I was guided into such a niche, I'm not sure.

There are times I wish I was just a drone like everyone else. Would make life much, much simpler. But it would make it much less interesting too.

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7) THIRTY-FOUR

I believe with all my heart that the lowest, most despicable act in football was Mike Dikta's sending William "Refrigerator" Perry in to score a touchdown instead of giving Walter Payton.

You could make the argument that Michael Jordan was the greatest athlete of the modern era of sports, but my choice is and always will be Walter "Sweetness" Payton.

He did everything: run, block, receive, and even pass. I'm surprised he didn't offer to play defense now and then, too.

Driven, dedicated, sometimes silly - the man was great on and off the field.

He left at the top of his game. Instead of holding on for a few more years to set records or reach some particular goal at the expense of the team he'd been with all his career (ie. Craig Biggio), Walter bowed out to give the next set of running backs an opportunity to develop.

The second lowest, most despicable act in football was when Paul Tagliabue stabbed Walter Payton in the back and swept away Peter Rozelle's promise to give Walter a fair shot at a stake in ownership in a football franchise.

Walter's biography/autobiography "Never Die Easy" is in our bookshelf, the only book on that particular shelf when countless other books are in stacks on the floor or double-up on the shelves. When I feel like I can't do something or I feel like I'm running face-first into a brick wall, I take it down now and then and read it for inspiration.

Then I go off and run face-first into the brick wall again.

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8) THE TERSE

My podcast's motto and tagline is Keep It Brief, but when I get a good head of steam behind me, I can blither endlessly and take over a website, podcast, discussion, or debate.

Sort of like what I've done with this post, I guess.