|Chuck Shurley: that beardy dude with the laptop. (capriciousgod) wrote,|
@ 2010-06-24 02:11:00
|Current location:||Some crappy Motel, somewhere between MI and KS|
|Entry tags:||ic:meme, info|
[OOC: So, I decided to post this here, because it got out of hand and contained valuable IC information about Chuck! Here, in all it's ridiculously long glory, is Chuck's filled-out meme. \o/]
LAYER ONE: On the Outside
Name: Chuck Shurley
Birth date: 03-12-85.
Birthplace: Detroit, Michigan
Current Location: Motel, on my way to Lawrence.
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Righty or Lefty: Left-handed. That whole “righty / lefty” thing sounds so childish.
LAYER TWO: On The Inside
Your heritage: I don’t really know.
Shoes you wore today: Just, shoes? Uh, and I’m actively wearing slippers right now.
I’m not touching this carpet with bare feet, oh my God
Your weakness: I, ah, don’t really like confrontation very much? And, you know, I kind of suck at punching people. I think. I’ve never, um, actually done it.
Your fears: Anything creepy and/or terrifying.
Your perfect pizza: Extra cheese and bacon. I think I know what I’m ordering for dinner.
Goal you'd like to achieve: Used to be ‘get famous for my books!’ but now I think it’s ‘make it to Lawrence without dying!’ or maybe ‘get really really drunk!’ which I can’t do until I get where I’m going. Drunk driving is bad, people.
It’d be lots less stressful, though. People are friggin’ psychos on the road
LAYER THREE: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
Your most overused phrase on AIM: Probably the word (if it’s... even technically a word?) “um”. Which, in my defence, is also the most overused thing I say, also.
Your thoughts first waking up: If hungover, it’s usually a request for someone to shoot me in the face right the hell now. And that’s most of the time.
Best physical feature: I, um, I don’t really know? I had a girl tell me I had nice eyes before...
and then she threw up on me ‘cause she was super drunk Another one said my beard was “admirable”, but I don’t know if that was actually a compliment, or if she was just really weird...
Your bedtime: Whenever I’m tired or drunk enough to fall asleep.
Your most missed memory: I don’t really miss many of my memories?
LAYER FOUR: Your Pick
Pepsi or Coke: Pepsi
Mc Donald's or Burger King: Burger King.
Adidas or Nike: I, ah, don’t actually care much for either? Not really an athletic type, so the athletic shoes and clothing? Really not my thing.
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Lipton. Nestea kind of reminds me of stale water.
Cappuccino or coffee: Coffee.
LAYER FIVE: Do You?
Smoke: No. Smoke kind of hurts my lungs. Just standing next to someone who has smoked in the last three hours is kind of uncomfortable. This motel room is horrible like that.
Cuss: Not much? It, I sort of got in the habit of not doing that, because my mom was always kind of strict about it even after I’d moved out, and if I slipped up and said something in front of her she’d always get all upset and act like I was, you know, actively cutting her heart out of her chest or something, so, I try not to do it. Sometimes, though, you just sort of really need to say a few more colorful words.
Sing: Yes. Not, like, around people, just. I can. I do. I was singing with the radio, in the car, before I stopped for the night. It was kind of fun.
Take a shower everyday: Not every day. If I’m staying at home by myself, what’s the point? Waste of water, soap, clean clothes (which means more water and soap to get those clothes clean)....
Have a crush(es): Not really. There was this one girl in the town I just left, she worked at the liquor store... she was kind of hot. Also, she said my books weren’t horrible. Which is kind of a nice compliment I only ever really get from people on the internet
or my mother. Only, my mom doesn’t like that there’s sex in the books. Or guns. Or, really, I think she only said she liked them because I’m her son.
Think you've been in love: I thought so at the time. She, uh, hardly knew I was alive, though, so. It probably wasn’t.
Like(d) high school: No times a couple million.
Want to get married: Maybe. Someday. If, you know, I can get a woman to not think I’m a freak long enough to like me.
Believe in yourself: Not really, no. And I don’t mean that in an emo whiny kid sense, I just, I don’t. I don’t think I need to.
Get motion sickness: Ugh, yes. Not bad, like, puke as soon as I get in the car kind of bad, but I generally am pretty nauseated if I’m on a fair ride or a plane or a boat or there’s a lot of weaving around in traffic going on....
Think you're attractive: Eh, not really? I’m sure I have my good points and I can clean up okay but, not, you know. Anything noteworthy?
Think you're a health freak: Uh, no. I eat pizza and take-out and drink enough alcohol to open a liquor store. I don’t think that’s healthy. Then again, I haven’t died yet, so.
Get along with your parents: Sometimes?
Like thunderstorms: I used to, until I knew demons were real and that all that lightning might be omens and not just weather...
Play an instrument: Nope. I tried. I was really bad. My piano teacher cried.
LAYER SIX: In the past month...
Drank alcohol: Yes. In the last five minutes I have done so. I will do so again in another five seconds.
Done a drug: Nope.
Gone on a date: Hah, no. Almost! But then this whole everyone is a dude thing happened, so the date, uh, did not.
Gone to the mall?: No.
Malls are terrifying places
Eaten an entire box of Oreos: Nope. I don’t like Oreos. I mean, they taste fantastic, but, like, they friggin’ climb inside your teeth and never go away. It’s insane. So, no. I did eat an entire package of cookies that weren’t Oreos, though. Last night.
Been on stage: No, thank God.
Been dumped: Not this month, but then you sort of have to have a girlfriend in the first place for that to happen, so...
Gone skating: No. That would be dangerous. I’d break something. Probably my entire spine.
Gone skinny dipping: Nope. The neighbors would be alarmed.
Dyed your hair: No.
Stolen anything: Nope. I’ve actually only stolen once. And it was a pen. From a teacher who was a complete witch. Like, she may have literally been a witch. And it was on a dare, I didn’t even come up with the idea myself.
I gave it back, afterwards. No one knew. But I was sort of terrified she was going to, I don’t know, turn me into a frog or something
LAYER SEVEN: Ever...
Played a game that required removal of clothing: Yes. Only, I won, so I ended up the one wearing everyone’s clothes...
Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: Um, yes. All the time.
Been caught "doing something": Yep. Thanks, Mom. Way to ruin the mood.
Been called a tease: No
Gotten beaten up: Yes. Plenty. Bullying is bad, kids, don’t do it.
Shoplifted: Nope. Just stole that one pen, from the teacher...
LAYER EIGHT: Getting Older
Age you hope to be married: Uh, sometime before I die would be nice? Maybe?
How do you want to die: Hopefully if it’s painful I’ll be drunk enough not to notice... but really, it’d be kind of cool to spontaneously combust.
What do you want to be when you grow up: I’ve always hated that question. Famous? Rich? An adult? I don’t friggin’ know.
What country would you most like to visit: I don’t want to go anywhere. I prefer not to, uh, leave home much. This whole road trip to Lawrence? Most traveling I’ve done since “family vacations” stopped being the thing to do. Which was when I was ten, and broke my arm water-skiing and my parents decided no more dangerous fun, which was totally great with me.
LAYER NINE: In a girl/guy
Best eye color?: I am seriously not that picky.
Best hair color?: Same as above.
Short or long hair: I actually kind of like short better.
Height: I don’t really care, as long as the chick isn’t, you know, thirty billion feet tall, or generally towering over me to the point where it goes from attractive to friggin’ terrifying.
Best articles of clothing: Uh, I really don’t care what’s being worn. Just, no creepy real-fur things with faces on them, and we’re probably okay.
Best first date location: Wherever the chick wants to go. That is the perfect answer, and also actually valid because they’re happier if they’re where they like to be. I win.
Or, I would if I could actually get them to go on the dates. Whatever.
LAYER TEN: In The Numbers...
Number of drugs taken illegally: One. Once. Never again, please God no more. Acid is not fun, kids.
Number of people I could trust with my life: Um, none? My life is a very precious thing! It’s also rather fragile! I don’t want to die!
Number of CDs that I own: Not many. All my music’s on my laptop and various MP3 devices. Takes up less space that way,
and also it’s free if you know where to download from. Yarr, piracy
Number of piercings: None.
Needles are bad
Number of tattoos: None. I’m thinking I need a nice anti-possession one, though, once I get into town.
Number of times my name has appeared in the Newspaper?: Once. I, uh, fell out of a tree, and it was a small town. Not much really made the news around there.
Number of scars on my body: Not too many. I try not to get hurt, so as to avoid, you know, pain, and as a side effect it’s kind of hard to get scars that way.
Number of things in my past that I regret: Um, not too many? I kind of, I don’t know, it feels like I’ve got this whole new life starting out right now, and, so, everything I did then lead to this, and so, I don’t know. I kind of am okay with it all.