The root of all weirdness


I have some strange quirks.

I tend to speak before I think.

Act a bit daft.

Do ridiculous happy dances over the tiniest things.

Can go from unbelievably happy to full on rage in 0.6 seconds.

Talk a lot of nonsense, about 95% of the time – I don’t even know what I’m trying to say for the majority.

I am probably a complete pain in the ass to a lot of people.

And it may be endearing to some fellow weirdos.

Don’t really care.

The root of the problem 

But it’s in situations where I haven’t spoken to my parents for a while that I realise exactly where I got it from.

Especially when I’m mid-conversation on Skype and my dad disappears for a minute.

And comes back with a Scotmid basket that he nicked from the supermarket.

Because he didn’t want to pay 5p, 5p! for a bag.

This would also be the reason I’m a cheap skate. But that’s another matter.

One day, I might, maybe, possibly, highly unlikely, have a “normal” conversation with my parents.

But then it would just be boring. So maybe not.

Life’s too short to be “normal”.

I am related to this weirdo. This happy little basket thief >>>



4 thoughts on “The root of all weirdness

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