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Most Likely to Tell a Dirty Joke in Church


I’m made of bones that are green and rotting.

I can hear them creek under the pressure of holding up all the guilt at being so sad.

When I was a kid I’d spend hours playing pretend. One minute I’d be a pirate battling the Moby Dick that was my washing machine. Another minute and I’d be an adventurer climbing the Mount Everest disguised as my staircase. I doubled as a cowgirl whose horse was a couch cushion and as a rock star whose guitar was a shoebox. Then I’d be a knight fighting off a dragon, sometimes for the heck of it I’d be the fucking dragon.

I don’t remember when I started just being me all the time.

I’ve mastered the art of self deprecating humor paired with an overly cocky attitude. I am both shit and THE shit at the same time.

My Napoleon complex is so big that I think he actually had a me complex. The McGrath complex.

In fourth grade I would play basketball at recess. One day the boys challenged me to a girls vs boys game, a magnificent display of prepubescent flirting. One of them was Eddie, a tall and skinny french fry looking kid, who was nastier than the boogers he ate. During the game he refused to stop pushing me no matter how many times I told him to stop. I was barely four feet tall so I had to jump to to slam my elbow in his eye, he got thirteen stitches.

I hope he still has the scar.