I want to wake you up at 3am because I'm high and you'd totally get this awesome joke I just said.

I want what's real.
I want you.

My full title is Madskillz,Axe-Wielding Punk Dyke.

Painfully shy, but I hide it well. Until I have to, y'know, speak.

I am happy almost all of the time, honestly. I find magic in the most tedious, mundane things and don't understand how anybody can't.

I smoke rollies because the smell reminds me of my childhood and I enjoy the fine motor skills challenge. Also I eat cigarette papers when I'm nervous.

When I meet someone new, I tend to zero in on a particular body part of theirs and imagine touching it, in great detail. Strangely, this is non-sexual about 75% of the time. I just really like to touch.

Speaking of, I feel like I have a significantly stronger urge to hug than most people. God damn I love hugging. Do you love hugging? Let's talk yo.

"There's Always Someone Cooler Than You" by Ben Folds is excellent advice, in catchy song form.

I really, really love to dance. I go fucking nuts. Blood noses and accidental nudity nuts. I've been told I am terrifyingly magnificent on the dance floor.

Awkward, stupid, ugly, boring.

Just kidding. I'm great.

Swallowing it whole.

I do not subscribe to the notion that to be successful, you must have your life's plan in place before you are legally allowed to fuck.

Oh, and now I learn stuff in a government-recognised institution, too.

I just wanna I just wanna I just wanna elevate myself.

(All obliqueness aside, I do the same shit as everyone else really, just slower and with more hand gestures.)

Being captivated. Overdoing it. Giving hilariously useless advice. Making brilliant stoner food. Cutting my own hair.

Probably some other stuff, but who the fuck knows really.

I semi live for those moments when you ask someone "guess what?" and they accurately guess whatever you were going to say. The more detailed and obscure the better. What a satisfying feeling that is. Right?

I have a Navi.

I tend to have at least three things in my hands at any one moment in time because I'm always so paranoid I'll have to fumble and rush to get something out of my bag when I need it. And I like to pick things up off the sidewalk a lot.

And I'm most likely smiling to some degree, anywhere from conspiratorial smirk to Disney starlet.

If you're deadly serious about your taste in any of these things (In an elitist, ~srs art~ kind of way, not just really enthusiastic serious) then you'll probably sneer at me.

(a) I like to think I strike a good balance between literary snob and illiterate inbred, and I have a large collection of Roald Dahl audiobooks. I like to buy Penguin Classics versions of books, because the colour scheme is pleasing and they're cheap. Latest: High Fidelity and And the Ass Saw the Angel.

(b)10 Things I Hate About You. Milo & Otis. Wayne's World (At least once a week) (Come on, it's awesome). And some other stuff I guess. I like movies but I'm bad at them.

I also need to add here, King of the Hill has created some of the happiest moments of my life.

(c) Currently disintegrating my eardrums; LIGHTNING BOLT LIGHTNING BOLT LIGHTNING BOLT LIGHTNING BOLT. And HEALTH. And Battles a little bit. And LIGHTNING BOLT. Mmmm. (Oh fuck, I'm a hipster.)

Last.fm.

I do not enjoy the dull, the ordinary, or the excessively repetitive. I do, however, enjoy Beyonce. (Oh fuck, I'm no longer a hipster.)

(d) A shit ton of carrots, apparently. AND CURRY FUCK I LOVE CURRY.

I happily eat chickpeas and white beans straight from the tin. I also enjoy frozen juice boxes. And grape-bubblegum cordial. Yessss

1)Some form of pleasurable external stimuli. (Blankets, mud and psychoactive substances fall under this umbrella.)

2)Music. (Gee, no shit Madison. Do you like having fun too?)

3)Human interaction, physical and intellectual.

4)Questions. (Is this -really- safe to eat? Are bike helmets a total crock? What in the hell is that ungodly stench?)*

5)Writing and drawing implements. (I could make do with a twig dipped in my own blood if need be.)

6)My stuffed gorilla. (With no hint of shame.)

But everyone knows this question sucks anyway.

*(The answers are yes, yes and oh shit, I forgot I left that under there.)

Addendum: I also require a comprehensive First Aid manual and at least three sturdy safety pins.

Everything all at once.

New aliases for myself based on clever puns of my personality traits.

And orgasm faces. Especially yours.

The same kinds of things seem to come up over and over again in baked conversation with me. Stuff like, I have this theory right. That when you're high, you just grow like ten meters taller, until your head sticks up above the reality cloud layer and into some other new place. Thus being high. Then as you come down you just shrink. Makes sense, right? Right.

Not watching fucking Pinky & The Brain, that's for sure.

Probably drinking a lot of coffee and doing arty things with cat food boxes, glue and scratchy old fine-liners, whilst singing loudly along to something lovely and making a big old mess.

Or, going out with the intent of socialising, and ending up dancing by myself for four solid hours without speaking to a soul. See; painfully shy, terrifyingly magnificent dancer.

The majority of my decisions tend to be influenced by whatever music I am listening to at the time.

And I have a lot of scars that I like to make up outlandish origin stories for.

I am physically and psychologically incapable of knowingly misspelling words. Seriously, there have been incidents.

Also, I edit this thing only when drunk or high. I find I am most honest like this. And I think of some funny-ass shit to write.

You have ever wanted to do any of the following, if only you had a partner in crime:

-Live in a cave on an island for a while a la Famous Five (Seriously, I want to do this SO BAD. If you know of a cave on an island somewhere, and preferably also know some plucky young English teenagers with a trusty pet dog, hit me up) (No child-smuggling rings involved though please)

-Form a band based on some absurdly over-extended in-joke ('Courtney's Prolapsed Womb' is currently waiting in the wings)

-Become conjoined twins with the help of a whole lot of duct tape (but only if you have a foolproof separation process already sorted out because I'm sure you're completely lovely, but not forever)

-Make some art that takes up a whole house in a really impractical way (I'm thinking toilet paper laser maze)

-You just wanna you just wanna you just wanna elevate yourself.

-Hug whenever you want, for however long you want, for any reason you can think of, or no reason at all, just because it is really nice.