If only a test existed that could tell me if I'm a huge pussy. Oh wait! There totally is!

I saw this personality quiz over at Amelia's blog (that's not her real name, but I think it should be.) I figured I'd go ahead and confirm what we all know.

I scored a 17 out of 100 (it's like the SATs all over again.)

You seem to be far from having a Type A personality. Your attitude to life is more of the "smell the roses" kind. You know how and when to relax. The hostile, aggressive and competitive part of you surfaces rarely. You are easy to be around, and people tend to feel relaxed and comfortable in your presence. It's a very healthy attitude towards life. Just make sure you don't miss important opportunities because of being too cool and relaxed. Picking up a challenge and competing a little bit for your place in the sun can add some spice to your life.

This is pretty much what I figured would happen. I'm type B all the way. Type B makes me sound like kind of a poon, but it could also mean that I'm a sensitive lover...ladies. *wink*

So I think you guys need to take this. I think I can call most of your personalities, though. Let's try.

Jon - A&B mix
Cory - B
Richard - A
Kluntzy - I dunno. I kinda see you as a B, but definitely some A in there.
Stacy - Super A? Does that exist?
Kenny "the rev" - A for asshole (I've seen you yell at old ladies for no reason.)
Michael - Probably an A.
Jimmy - Hmm...probably a B.
Chase - A

The rest of you, I don't really know well enough to make a judgment. So yeah, take that test and let me know if I'm right.

On a related note, I kicked ass on the depression test:

You show some mild symptoms of depression. Although you are generally able to cope, your feelings of sadness and pessimism may sometimes interfere with your ability to function in a healthy way - holding you back from doing necessary things, putting a damper on experiences that have the potential to be wonderful, or causing some problems in your relationships. It may not be serious but there is the possibility that your occasional "down times" could create a snowball effect and become more harmful. You may well benefit from a few counseling sessions. Counseling may help get to the root of your low feelings.

Sadness and pessimism? Um, I think you've got the wrong guy, quiz.

EDIT: SteeleShape, did you come here to compare abs?

Reader participation day

Write whatever you want in the comments. Questions, statements, things like that. I'm having one of those "I need to post something" moments, but I wrote about three different things and they aren't really that well thought out. So write something. It'll be fun maybe.

My priorities lie in a sad, yet expected place...

I was at a local Chinese buffet the other day with some friends from work. As I walked up to fill my belly with MSG and delicately roasted cat morsels, I noticed something different among the General Tsao's chicken and what may or may not be bbq pork. It was a cockroach about the size of a pencil eraser crawling on the bowls by the sweet and sour sauce.

At first I was disgusted. Who wouldn't be? Nobody wants to see a roach crawling across something they are about to pour delicious sweet and sour sauce into to help them better enjoy their sesame chicken balls. Then another thought popped into my head. What if somebody else saw this bug? What if somebody important saw this bug? I had a brief flashback to the day I heard they closed down my beloved China Wok. So much crying...so much crying. I can still hear the lady saying, "China Wok, how may I help youuuuuuuuu," whenever I called to place my order. I remember the smiling Asian man who would bring me my food, and how that smile would quickly fade when I shittily tipped him. Oh how I miss that place.

I wasn't about to let this happen again. I swallowed my pride (and probably an antenna or two), and when I was sure nobody was looking, I thumped the roach to the ground and stomped on it.

I don't know what I'd do if this place closed down. I think the nearest Chinese buffet is in Lufkin. LUFKIN! That's like 15 miles from here. I'm too lazy to drive 15 miles to eat. I don't even like walking across the room to go to the bathroom (but the corner is getting pretty full, so I have to.)

I don't need many things in this life. Water, air, shelter, and a Chinese buffet within five miles. This restaurant is the bamboo to my giant panda.

God didn't want me to poop there

The summer after my 12th birthday looked like it was going to be a pretty miserable one. Both of my parents worked weird hours and my sister had decided to stay at college to take summer classes. A young DB, who was only 12 and couldn't drive anywhere and who also had not yet discovered the time and soul killing practice of masturbation, was looking at a couple months of boredom. (This was pre internet!)

"Why don't you go to church camp?" my mother suggested. "Some of your friends are going. You might have a good time." My mom knew this was a lie. She's well aware that I'm incapable of having a good time.

I decided I'd give it a chance. I had been a regular church attender in the past, but had slacked off a little bit ever since my sister had moved away. I was by no means pious, but I had a healthy respect for religion. I just wasn't sure if it was for me. I have never been a big fan of people trying to tell me what I should or shouldn't believe, and religion was something I was still on the fence about. I thought that maybe a week of nothing but religion and religious-related activities might give me a better idea of what was going on and help me better form an opinion, so I tossed the ol' Bible into my bag and headed off to Lake Some Indian Name That I Forgot.

Imagine the most boring thing you can possibly think of. Now multiply it by some number that's higher than you can count. That was this camp. I was bored by the fact that most of the activities involved water, and I couldn't swim. We could play basketball, but no defense and you had to stand in one spot. Pretty fuckin' fun. I also remember being pulled aside and talked to after I unsuccessfully tried to hold back a laugh when a fellow camper said that he'd especially like to thank Jesus for his new four-wheeler. I get Jesus and Santa confused sometimes too!

We would split off in groups and, on a voluntary basis, explain our relationship with God. I would pass. I started to get the "why are you even here" looks from the other people in my group. If they had actually asked me, I probably would have replied "the eggs." They had the best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten, and I literally ate mounds of them, which makes this story even more miraculous.

The content of this camp didn't prove to help me with my religious questions. I was at a weird point in my life. My thoughts had become strange. Half the time I was thinking how sweet it would be to have a pet dinosaur, but also wondering what a boob felt like. Wondering if the Ninja Turtles really could beat up Shredder and really hoping that my solitary pube would decide that he liked the place and invite some friends. Needless to say, I wasn't in a place to fill my head with all this religion stuff. The toolish camp counselors dancing and singing didn't help much either. I was already pretty sure I was a nerd. This didn't look like it was going to help.

The first night of camp we had a big sing/tell stories/camp crap thing in the meeting hall. It wasn't too bad. Towards the end, some of the counselors asked if any of us were ready to be saved. Hey, why not? A friend of mine went first. A while later, he came back and it was obvious that he'd been crying, which freaked me out a little. The counselor asked me next if I'd like to go. "Mmmm...no thanks," I replied. I remember thinking that maybe that shit hurt. I wanted to part of it. Looking back, maybe he was raped. Who really knows...

That night when we got back to our cabin and right before we all went to sleep, I felt the urge to um...poop. I glanced over at the toilet. I could see it from my bunk because it happened to be in the corner of the room. No door, no curtain. Just open space and you. It was like a retarded kid on the bench of a little league baseball game. You didn't want to use it, but you knew you eventually had to. I really didn't want to take a dump as 30 guys watched. I'm not Kenny's mom.

That night, I prayed. I said something along the lines of, "if I can make it this whole week without pooping, I'm on board with this whole "faith" thing." Anybody who knows me knows that I'm an ardent and prolific pooper. This wasn't going to be easy, especially with those delicious, buttery eggs.

I kept busy by gluing beans on crosses and other artsy/craftsy church camp shit, as well as becoming a pretty badass defenseless basketball player. I think I played immobile forward. Maybe stationary guard. I forget. Anyway, the last day of camp rolled around and I had yet to take Big Brown to the Derby and my mind was made up.

I probably made God cry a little when I got home that day as I took a dump that could have probably smothered a small to medium sized Asian village. The important thing was that I made it a week without having to use the disgusting voyeur toilet.

It's strange to think about how you arrive at major life decisions. In this case, I think my butt getting plugged for a week by God made my decision for me. Wait...

Estelle Getty: 1692-2008

Guess I'll never have the chance to get my dick dry...

(Get it? 'Cause she was so old and it was probably like a powdered donut down there?)

Did I miss something?

I know this isn't a new movie, but I just saw it this morning. Anybody else seen this? Like it? I thought it was a ridiculous piece of shit. Maybe I missed something, though. It wasn't all the colon imagery. I saw all that. I also saw what happens when you blow a tree...

So enlighten me. Did I miss the point?

Update: Sigh

So I pounced. My approach? Stellar. My delivery? Equally stellar. Her response? Very substellar.

I finally grew some balls (five now,) and I talked to her. We made some small talk about how it sucks that she has to work by herself and doesn't have anybody to talk to. I made a lame joke and she gave the mandatory pity laugh. Then I asked her the totally not vague question of "would you like to do something sometime?" Her answer kinda puzzled me. She said, "As friends or like a date?" As friends? Really? C'mon, ladies. I'm some random guy asking if you'd like to do something. Chances are I'm not asking because we could really use a bass player for Rock Band (Although Jon and I could use a goalie for our NHL '08 franchise...)

Before I could answer she said, "'cause I have a boyfriend." I kinda figured she did because she was way too cute not to. That makes sense in my head. I made another lame joke to try to save whatever pea-sized amount of dignity I had left, but it fell well short. Oh well. At least I have awkwardness to look forward to at work today. Hooray!

I guess the ocelot turned out to be an oceNOT!!! You see what I did there? Now where'd I put my drinkin' drain-o...

Probably going to do something dumb today

I think I'm going to ask this girl out at work tomorrow. We don't exactly know each other, so that may be a problem. I've decided I'm just going to kinda spring it on her. In my head, this sounds pretty suave, but in reality, it's probably going to be pretty fucking creepy.

This approach kinda worked once before. Then she blew me off several times until I finally gave up (which was a lot of times.) I'm glad things didn't work out, though. She looked like a beetle. I'm talking about the burrowing in dung kind, not the "I wanna hold your haaaaaaaaand" kind. I'm not really sure how she looked like a beetle, but looking back, she definitely did. What does that say about me? Standards have lowered? It sure does.

So tomorrow I'm just going to randomly pounce like an ocelot of love onto her marmoset of indifference until it's fully digested and made into a turd of unity.

So yeah. I figure what the hell? I'm just going to go for it. What the worst that could happen? It could go badly? Ha! It usually goes badly when I do stuff like this, but I guess I can't be a huge, flapping poon for the rest of my life. I pray she has low expectations!

I'll stop writing about imaginary girlfriend eventually. I promise.

Fill this space

Dear bloggers, my roommate and I have a problem. We just moved into a new apartment (mostly why I haven't posted in awhile) and we basically have no decorations. I would like this apartment to look like adults actually live here as opposed to our last one. It's a pretty nice place and I think we can probably keep it that way, barring any sink fireworks, money burning or airsoft gun target practice.

Anyway, I'd like to start with this space above the fireplace. Honestly, I don't know how I lived without a fireplace before now. They're pretty much an East Texas must. I'm sure it'll come in really handy during our harsh, 65-degree winters.

Personally, I'd like to go with the Big Ben Godsend poster, but it's probably not for everybody since, despite its awesomeness, it leans a bit to the sacrilegious side. So what should we put here? Maybe a portrait? Richard, I'm going to commission you for this, assuming "commission" doesn't mean "pay."

So I need some ideas. Let's hear it.