Self reporting is inherently suspect, so I’m just going to list facts about myself, and if you like them, you can talk to me, maybe?

I can’t call one of my dogs when she’s outside, because her name is a profanity, and I don’t want the neighbors’ kids to hear me yell it.

My small town has a statue of the Confederate general that it’s named after. Every now and then, I walk over to it and flip him off. It’s good exercise.

I’ve been getting really into stocks lately. Not financial stocks. The kind you cook with. I make one from vegetable trimmings that I’ve been calling “garbage soup”. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever cooked.

I have failed to make a podcast more times than I care to admit.

I wrote a haiku: Like pissing ninjas / Psoriatic arthritis / Has a silent ‘P’. Also, I have psoriatic arthritis.

I once knitted a hat with a pattern of two reindeer having sex. I gave it to a friend for Christmas.

For a long time, one of my favorite hobbies was finding songs that really shouldn’t be played on an acoustic guitar and learning to play them on an acoustic guitar. I was reasonably proud of my version of It’s Raining Men.

I have a pathological interest in conspiracy theories of all types. I just find them fascinating. My favorite one is probably about how George W. Bush is the grandson of the antichrist. Not the antichrist himself, mind you - just his grandson.

I’m in a Discord group that meets weekly to discuss moral philosophy. None of us have any formal training in philosophy, and it’s great.

Recently, I made a 500-word Facebook post about the video game Ecco the Dolphin and its connection to a government-funded project who’s ketamine-fueled director instructed an employee to give regular handjobs to one of the background dolphins from the TV show Flipper. I can’t not tell people about these things.

Total Eclipse Of the Heart was originally about a woman falling in love with a vampire. This has nothing to do with me. It’s just another of those things that I have to share with people.

I have standing orders that sloppy joes should be served at my funeral. Buffet-style.

I also have a standing cannibalism pact with a friend. If either of us ever has to have a limb amputated, we're going to share it.

One Halloween, I failed at buying a pumpkin. I didn't just fail to buy one. I failed AT buying one. I tried to buy one and failed. The pumpkins were there. The store was selling them. I had the money. It just... didn't work out. I ended up carving a turnip that year.

I have peed on two barracudas and a dolphin. Not all at once.

I once testified in the trial of a serial killer.

A couple of years ago, I went to a Halloween party with a bunch of little velvet bags filled with fake poo. Whenever someone asked me what my costume was, I'd hand them a bag and say, "I'm someone who gives a shit." I was way too proud of that.

At various points in my life, I have been known by all of the following nicknames: Beerman Jay, Cajun Nookie, Smoking Buddha, and Easy Money.

I created a Twitter account solely to shame FedEx for destroying two packages. It accomplished nothing, but it was cathartic.

That's about it. That's all the things to know about me.

Oh, I would also like to not be alone, so if you don't want to be alone either, say hi.