At Least I'd Have an Eyepatch

One of my earliest memories is when I was four years old and I was trying to create some sort of art project. I don't even know what it was, all I know is that I needed scissors so I could cut out whatever I had made.
As a four year old I was not allowed to use the scissors for obvious fear that I would lacerate myself, but I didn't realize this because I considered myself rather dexterous and so I grabbed the scissors off the counter...to be honest I don't remember how I actually acquired the scissors, all I know is that I got them somehow.
The only problem was that in order to get them to my room where my art project was, I had to get past my parents room where my Dad had the door open watching the news. I peaked around the corner to make sure he wasn't looking but as I stepped into the hallway he turned around and saw me with the scissors and he let out one of his Floyd-esque "Jacob! what are you doing? What are you carrying? Are those SCISSORS!?"'s.
The jig was up and the sensible thing would've been to stop and put down the scissors but like I've said before, I don't make sensible decisions when I am faced with punishment.

When motherly figures advise you to "never run with scissors" you probably think to yourself "Why would anyone ever even need to run with scissors in the first place?"

Well apparently four year olds facing restriction from any future art projects do, because that is what I did. Or at least tried to do, cause I only made it about halfway down the hallway before I tripped and fell on my face. I'm not really sure when I started crying but I definitely cried and it is a good thing I was at least holding the scissors in the correct fashion or I might've had one less eye.

The moral of this story is never run with scissors. That's it. I just wanted to make sure you were all transporting your sharp objects responsibly.

side note: If you were wondering what "restriction" is, then I don't blame you. It is Floyd's alternative to "grounding". Like for example, if you were put on restriction from the computer then you weren't allowed to use the computer. One time I was threatened to be restricted from coloring and I snarkily responded that I had to color in kindergarten and then Floyd said that he would call the school and tell them that I wasn't allowed to color so then I just shut up.
I never actually did get restricted though, I was always just threatened with it. "Restricted" sounds so much more menacing than "grounded" does, so I think the threat was all that was needed to make me be good. That and Santa Clause.

Interview with Myself

I was bored recently, so I sat down with myself for a quick interview.

Q: How are you feeling today?
A: My heart rate is up. But it's not too bad I guess.

Q:Why do you think your heart rate is up? Are you nervous about something?
A: I've never been interviewed before.

Q: Well don't worry, all I do is ask questions.
A: Well I'm not stupid.

Q: I didn't say you were.
A: Well you implied it.

Q: Forgive me. May we move on?
A: Only if you apologize first.

Q: I just did.
A: Well then ok. Ask away.

Q: I've forgotten what I was going ask now.
A: Well then you are a terrible interviewer. And your mother is a tramp.

Q: Well that was just uncalled for.
A: I'm sorry. I get cranky when I haven't napped.

Q: Let's start off easy, where were you born?
A: Glendale. In a hospital. As a baby.

Q: And why did your parents name you Jacob?
A: It rhymes with "country club", very high class, you see.

Q: If you could go anywhere in the world at this very moment, where would you go.
A: 1996.

Q: ummm, ok...why 1996?
A: That's the year I proposed to the love of my life.

Q:Weren't you four?
A: Yes.

Q: Care to explain this one?
A: Her name was Emily I think. We went to pre-school together. I was madly in love. I think she felt the same way. I mean you don't just teeter totter with someone without being committed to that person!

Q: I suppose not. What happened with Emily?
A: I proposed to her behind the swingset.

Q: What was her answer?
A: I never did find out.

Q: Well why not?
A: She got nailed in the head by the swing before she could reply.

Q: My goodness! That's awful!
A: That was probably why we weren't allowed behind the swing set. Anyway, she didn't talk to me for a long time and I eventually dropped out so that was that.

Q:You dropped out of pre-school?
A: Yup.

Q: Care to explain that one?
A: I'd rather not to be honest. Got any other questions for me?

Q: What is your favorite color.
A: I'm colorblind you insensitive fool.

Q: It says here that your favorite food is ham? Why?
A: It tastes good.

Q: Yes. But why?
A: You are really bad at this.

Q: At what?
A: At interviewing. You ask questions that nobody cares about and that don't even make sense.

Q: Well forgive me for trying.
A: I do not accept your apology.

Q: I say! Your rudeness is only exceeded by your complete disregard for proper manners!
A: When did you become British? And rudeness and disregard for manners are the same thing pal.

Q: Get out of my face.
A: Look who's talking, you're the one who came in here and just started asking questions. Your mother is still a tramp by the way.

Q: You know what? I'm done, I am done with this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you insult me anymore.
A: Nobody asked you to be here in the first place. I was just trying to take a nap you son of a tramp.

Q: What makes you so bitter?
A: Annoying people. A.K.A. you.

Q: So you're saying that you hate yourself?
A: Well played, Self.

I Lied

This is a bit awkward because this one time I was like, "I'm going to end my blog" and I meant it too. But then school started again and I remembered why I started writing blog posts in the first place, because I was bored and because I didn't want to do math homework. Once again I find myself bored, and not wanting to do math homework, so I apologize for lying and promise to never do it again.*

Lying is one of the many things that my mother taught me to never do. She also taught me to never talk to strangers, chew with my mouth open, or eat any sort of red meat. I would like to focus on the last one, not eating red meat. I was told as a child that if I ate any meat that had the slightest of pink tinges, that I would either: immediatley breed a family of worms inside my stomach that would do terrible terrible things to me, or die, or both...but most likely both. As evidence, my Mother would point to the story of the kid who died from eating a hamburger at Jack in the Box that was undercooked. I have no idea if this is true or not but as a child I believed it one hundred percent and I always had this image in my mind of a kid biting into a Jumbo Jack and immediatley keeling over and dying on the floor of the restaurant. It is for this reason, that when I was six and I found out that my brother was going to Jack in the Box for lunch that I started crying because I thought that he was for sure going to die and I think I tried pleading with him not to go much like a heroine addicts friend tries to keep a heroine addict from injecting himself with too much heroine. I was like, "Seth, please don't do it, it's not as good as you think and you are worth way more than this, you are breaking your mother's heart!" My pleas fell on deaf ears and he went to Jack in the Box, and he came back...alive.

My fear of red meat continued...and then I tasted it.

I have been in love ever since.

I eventually learned the truth about read meat, that it wasn't as scary as it seemed and now I am no longer afeared. Red meat is absolutely delicious, especially around full moons, and I can't stand hamburgers that are cooked "well-done".
I can't blame my mother at all, she herself refuses to eat any sort of red meat. She was just trying to protect me from worms and other meat related diseases.

I now also eat at Jack in the Box...although I still view it as a definite possibility that I will die as a result.

*Lie