Sub Genius

I know shit. My head is filled with it. You want me on your team on quiz night at the local pub. Surface knowledge and salient details are my Forté. Perhaps because my head is clogged with so many useless facts and figures, my thinking becomes strained on standardized IQ tests, and for this reason, I have always scored just below genius. On the other hand, the last few IQ tests I've taken were in in flight magazines, and I was probably a few rum and cokes into the flight when I took the tests.

Be that as it may, I'm an A minus sort of guy and proud of it. My safety school was my first choice. My foggy recollections of my high school years are always set in the evenings where I am not hunched over a heap of books.

I've never worn the pants in a relationship. I've avoided many clashes on where to lunch by always being in agreement on these sorts of things that my significant other du jour chooses.

My pets have always been mixed breeds. I rescue them off the streets.

I won't get into the highest realm of heaven nor will I be condemned to the lowest circle of hell.

If it's heaven, instead of 72 virgins, I'll spend my eternity with a quartet of late thirty-something Eastern European pros who will have bad backs and smoker hacks. If it's the other place I'll spend forever fighting off flu-like symptoms with hellmates that include politicians, panderers and frauds.

Trivia is fraudelent genius. That's why I love Wikipedia. I now have nearly instantaneous pseudo wisdom just by tapping a few letters on my keyboard and left clicking my mouse.