Wonderland Burlesque's That's Weird Quiz

Wonderland Burlesque's

That's Weird Quiz

We're all weird. Sorry, but it's true. We are all odd as can be.

That whole 'normal is a setting on the dryer' thing? So damn true.

You can tell yourself differently. Convince yourself. But you can't hide the truth.

When it comes down to it? We are all a little freaky. And it's not just our behavior. The things we are attracted to and use in our daily lives? Well, they can end up on that side of things, too.

For today's quiz, we're going to take a look at that freaky stuff - things which, on closer examination, are sure to raise an eyebrow or two.

What weird things do you enjoy? Do you indulge in?

Or... what gets your attention? What weird thing are you attracted to or use in your daily life?

1/ Weird Food

So, I had written this whole 'oh, woe is me' answer talking about my childhood and all the anxiety I have around food (turns out, I have something in common with a certain feral cat currently in my care.) But I will spare you my essay on my fucked up love of stale soda crackers and, instead, clue you in on my latest food quirk.

My blood sugar takes a nose dive about 3:00 pm each day. That's when the plane runs out of fuel. If I do nothing? I'm diving nose first by 4:15 pm, to the point where I'm in a weird kind of physical pain. So, I keep trying to find things to change that flight course.

My latest obsession?

Toast two pieces of 12-grain bread. On one, spread a generous amount of your favorite hummus. On the other mayonnaise. Don't be skimpy. In between? Place a mound of fresh spinach or crisp, romaine lettuce. Construct. Consume. Weird, right? Revolting, even.

Something about the hummus mixing with the mayo reminds me of horseradish, which is one of my favorite things in the world. The lettuce/spinach gives it crunch, as does the toasted 12-Grain. It's substantive and helps keep my plane level.

Is it good for me? Well, despite all it has going for it - the hummus, the 12 grain, the spinach... the mayo pretty much wipes all that good out - so, let's call it a draw.

It's quick to make. I always have the ingredients on hand and it makes me happy. Enough said.

2/ Weird Clothes

I've talked at length about my love of white t-shirts washed to the point of transparency. I can't throw them away. They feel so good. I love to sleep in them.

So, I will swivel to something else...

I have a thing for secondhand clothing. I tend to wear castoffs. Both The Boyfriend and The Ex keep handing me things that no longer fit them... and I wear the stuff over and over and over.

This summer? I have four pairs of cargo shorts that I have worn over and over. One came from The Ex and three from The Boyfriend. Topped with a white t-shirt and. given that I'm working from home these days, I am set for the summer. The fabric is very odd... as if they were made from an army tent or a pair of old golfing trousers. There's a tan, gray and blue sort of checked pair made by Levis. There's a dark army green pair. There's a khaki pair. And a different tan, gray and blue sort of checkered pair. Laundry is a breeze. I have a nice outfit (black) that I wear out for happy hours or nice restaurants, but otherwise... nope. Just the same thing all summer. And why? Because they gave them to me. I feel I must wear them. I would never buy such things for myself. I am not a cargo shorts kind of guy. But... here I am. Loving it.

Don't tell Sixpence or Maddie. They'll petition to have my gay card revoked.

3/ Weird Music

I always ask myself to go outside my comfort zone. That's how I fell in love with Goldfrapp. That's how I discovered Minus The Bear. And Frank Ocean. That's why I was briefly obsessed with Passion Pit. And middle eastern dance music. And The Weeknd.

I've gone through periods of developing a taste for things considered avant garde, like Robert Fripp, Eno, and Phillip Glass. I adore Kraftwerk.

I've gone through so many phases - and my CD/Vinyl collection definitely reflects that. There are very few sounds not represented. It's like a musical Whitman's Sampler. Baroque music? Got it covered.

So, I think the weirdest thing that I started to collect for a time was...

K-Tel and Ronco albums. So, if you grew up in the 70's, you remember these television ads where they would promise you all of today's hits by the original artists and there would be twenty songs on this single disc. Sounds great. Except, and this is so not an issue in the age of the CD or streaming, vinyl records have limited space. About twenty minutes per side to be exact, which means: if you place twenty songs, ten songs on each side, on a single disc you end up with... yes - about two minutes for each song. And so, they would edit the hell out of the latest Top 40. And frequently, some of the songs hadn't even made it into the Top 40, but they were on it anyway. And they were... wonderful. 

It's like listening to a concise aural time capsule. As if a tiny DJ was in your stereo dropping the needle and fading it out, before dropping another needle and playing another song. I just adore them My favorites all pay quite a bit of attention to what was happening across the pond, which is why Cliff Richard and Sweet (in their earliest form) are included in the collection. That's how I learned about glam and also, because they would include Barry White and Curtis Mayfield, I learned about soul/R&B. And then disco came along and things got real crazy. Oh, I wouldn't know the whole song, but the snippet they played in the commercial? I would sing over and over again. They got in my head.

Not that I owned these when they came out. Oh, no... too rich for my blood, my dears. I was lucky to scrap together the 99 cents needed to buy one 45 a week. 

But those commercials were so exciting... so, years and years later... after I'd sold all my original vinyl? I started buying them all over again. I was obsessed for about a year... which means, I bought quite a few. I love them all. It's like I own a tiny slice of Casey Kasim's Weekly Top 40 Countdown. 

That show, by the way, meant the world to me. On Saturdays, after the horror of cleaning house with my mother, I would sit beside the little radio in our kitchen and listen intently as Casey counted 'em down and I learned that there were whole worlds out there that I knew nothing about. Worlds where groups like Silver Convention and Raydio and The Patti Smith Group all lived and thrived and had adoring fans who bought their records. 

Weird? That I should still be so attached? Well, that's my childhood. In those records. In those tiny snippets of song. So, yeah... I was a weird little kid.

4/ Weird Movie

My first choice for this, previously, would have been Requiem For A Dream by Darren Aronofsky. I adore the film as much as it repulses and confuses/dazzles me.

But there is a new studio in town. We are talking a24 Films. The Boyfriend and I actively seek out their every release, because it is cinema with similarities to things we've seen in the past, but taken to such an extreme that there are actually films of theirs where I have had to cry uncle.

The first remains the best, a little film called In Fabric. It is wild. A feast for the senses. But the word weird doesn't even begin to cover the deviousness at hand. Go ahead. Watch it. Try to wrap your head around the mind that envisioned it and then brought it to life. Peter Strickland wrote and directed it. It's a masterwork.

But, what I want to highlight here is the studio. They have an odd gift for selecting films that take you outside your comfort zone and have you questioning what kind of human being you've become.

The latest one we watched is 2022's X, written and directed by Ti West. I'm not going to give anything away, but Brittany Snow and Kid Kudi are awesome in it, doing some very surprising things. If you're a fan of 1970's style horror, check this one out, it does not disappoint. It is weird in parts, but... well, you'll see. 

A prequel is already in the can with a sequel is in the works.

But the winner? In Fabric. You will love it.

5/ Weird Behavior/Habit

I grew up loving mythology. Greek and Norse. I also grew up Catholic. 

So, it should come as no surprise that I am a bit ritualistic. Let's chalk it up to magical thinking. 

No, I don't believe in 'god' in any sense. Organized religion is a sham. I see that now. But... old habits die hard. 

I have to go to the prairie super early on Fridays, before anyone gets there. And even if there are people there? I will still go through my little rituals to ensure that I have a good time and that the prairie is 'honored.' 

Yes, I know. This is weird. But it gets weirder. 

I must walk every trail. When I do this, I tell myself, I'm looking for garbage people have left behind. But, no... it's very important that I connect all the trails to one another. 

I have to touch this tree that has fallen, because it was once a touchstone of the prairie and must be honored and remembered. I touch a spot next to it where another tree used to exist. I have to walk to the opposite end and stand on what's left of the stump of what was the cornerstone and largest tree. It lorded over the southwest corner. I stand on it and praise the prairie, thanking it and asking it to grow.

(See, I told you... wait it gets weirder.)

I have to visit every 'pod' - the little places people have carved out to lay their blankets down in the grass - and blow away all the negative energy that has gathered in each one, thus purifying the prairie. Then I stand on the stump of the tree in the middle of the prairie that was cut down three summers ago and I raise my hands like I'm in The Lion King or something and I praise the prairie and find it good. 

I do all the praising in my head, of course. I don't actually say anything. But I do all the physical moving about. 

Then, the last thing I must do is walk the entire perimeter of the prairie, in order to seal the energy and protect it from bad things happening, before connecting it, via my walking to the place where I have laid my blanket beneath the big oak, which is the heart of the prairie. 

I know. I know.... 

But I do this every time. I have done this hundreds and hundreds of times. I know it's nuts. I don't know what I'm thinking. I just made up this weird mythology all on my own. 

This summer, I have tried to break myself of the habit. But, even though I no longer do all the things in the order that I used to... throughout my afternoon at the prairie? I do them all. It's like I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't. 

I might add that I am also convinced that the number of golf balls I find on my way to the prairie represents the number of men I will find of interest at the prairie that day. 

So, yes... I'm an atheist. But I'm addicted to mythology and rituals. 

And now that I've actually typed all this out? I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed. 

It's stupid, I know. But... this is what happens when you spend way too much time alone as a child making up stories in a creepy basement.

Well, at least all the litter gets picked up!

6/ Weird Word

Perpendicular - Always disappointed when its not about a pickled pepper. 

Synergy - What happens when you meet someone who is as into you as you are into them.

Dulcimer - It sounds like one of my hick, hillbilly, bucktoothed cousins.

Integrity - Part of the great 'lost language.' Doubtful to return to use anytime soon.

Wisteria - What happens when you are chronically nostalgic, manically longing for yesteryear. 

Scapula - A spatula used to serve scallop potatoes

7/ Weird Place

Basically? Any place I am standing.

Wait. I know... on the east side of the Mississippi, there is an old cruising spot. I haven't been in years and years, but when the place was active? It was an insane trip.

You walk along the sidewalk/bike path that runs parallel with the river. There is this iron fencing encased in years of brush that prevents you from seeing the actual river. You find this tiny opening which leads to a super long, narrow metal staircase and begin your descent. To your right, you can see this open area with all sorts of paths cut into it. It's night and all that foliage entwined in the fence that surrounds the east side blocks out most of the street light from above, leaving this eerie glow overhead, almost like a dome. And that's what it feels like as you descend into this eerie labyrinth.  

At the bottom of the stairs, you must pause and allow your eyes to adjust. it's so dark. Depending on the hour (after bar rush in the summer, for example) people in various states of dress will parade by you. Once your eyes adjust, you join the flow. From this point on, it's anyone's guess. There are old tables and chairs scattered throughout, housed in various little coves and openings. Dudes are bent over naked or sitting stroking their dicks. As it's your first time through, you just keep walking, taking it all in, stumbling on group activity and one on one couplings. It's a little like walking down the hallway of The Overlook Hotel and all the doors are open. Someone's getting whipped. Someone else is a human urinal. So much to take in. 

It's a dungeon. It's Berlin. Its the smoke of whiskey kisses. The penultimate sin - the ultimate being... that place from which we may never return.

But, you tell yourself, - you're merely a tourist - walking among many other tourists. The brave? The foolish? They join in. The lucky, stumble upon someone with whom they end up experiencing enough of a connection to lead to hidden corners. The rest of us? We walk around and around, like empty sex zombies in search of that one thing that's conspicuously absent.

This scene? It played out for years and years, every Friday and Saturday night. I only witnessed it once. Once was enough. It was strangely beautiful, exotic and erotic, but it also left me cold. Shook me cold, actually. I felt it in my bones that this... was not for me. Men would approach, but I'd feel nothing. 

Instead, I navigated yet another long narrow staircase, this one leading to the bank of the river. Along it, paths twist in and out of the trees which dot and knot the shoreline. Here, with the light of the moon dancing on the water - that's where I would find my joy; in among the rocks which stand bathed in shadows, like ancient ruins. 

But that level above? It lingers. It haunts. It's the midway sideshow for which I wish I'd never purchased a ticket.   

One gets a sense of such a place and it remains within forever. This? You somehow knew. 

And now? This you know.

8/ Weird Thought

I frequently question whether I died back in 1996 or in 2006 and my brain just keeps processing and producing these images and circumstances which I consider 'my life.'  As if a dream, that none of what I'm experiencing is real, but merely a product of my fevered imagination which is the form my life energy has been transformed. 

Therefore, nothing here can truly hurt me and there is no end to this. 

I don't see myself dying. 

Ever. 

I don't fear it. I just don't see it as a possibility.

9/ Weird Job/Task

Picking rocks. Out of corn fields before planting. A lot of rocks in those fields.

Feeding chickens at a huge industrial chicken farm. It was heartbreaking. The anguish and powerlessness I felt have stayed with me. I did it one week and never again. One of the reasons I became a vegetarian. I think if more people had to do this for a week, we'd have a lot more vegetarians.

Animals simply deserve better lives. They are not fodder.

10/ Weird Hobby/Collection

As a kid, my mother blindly picked out something for each of her children to collect. Mine? Matchbooks. I, to this day, have this huge box of matchbooks from the 1950's, 60's and 70's. I have no idea what to do with them. They're interesting little artifacts representing business and products that no longer exist, but... they're matchbooks.

I've written at length about my found underwear collection. The prairie, parking lots, the gym, dressing rooms... men just seem to love losing their drawers. I already found my pair for this year. They have a detachable pouch with a built in cock ring and a giant slit in the rear for easy access. Found at a rest stop in Wisconsin. Some trucker must have been getting fucked in the bushes and left them behind. 

They're mine now, bitch.

--- ---

And that's enough of me.

Okay, your turn. Leave your answers in the comments section or post them on your blog and leave a link here. 

Until next time...

Thanks for reading... and participating!

weird! - YUNGBLUD

Weird - Hanson