I feel that I am half as weird as an extremely weird person. Maybe two-thirds.

I have a recipe for a delicious desert. It takes one pineapple. Cut it. Serve chilled.

I most certainly feel more alive when the sun is down. Why? Insert cheesy vampire reference here.

I see ties in my closet and then after a while I break down and wear one. Keep immorality out of my closet.

I love giant abrupt changes from light things to heavy ones, or vice versa.

I get itchy from my blanket and talk to my future wife before I sleep.

I feel like I seek true hearts, but most people inside are about diamonds spades or clubs. Uhh.. Spades are up arrows, so, worldly success. Clubs are luck, or … violence. Phew, analogy saved.

I still don’t get bored unless I wait for things. The Sheridan brain is sometimes a locomotion machine and sometimes a cyclical perpetual motion machine. Lately more of the latter.

I like words, but realize this is a knowledge barrier thrust upon people I communicate with.

I am twenty five, but don’t want this to be twenty six. Four months to evolve. Luckily, it would be behavioral not biological evolution.

I am Sheridan, this is where I am.