Click here to read Confessions part I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX,  X, XI, XII, XIII, and XIV.

Confession #1 – I can never remember whether or not the song is “Pompeii” and the band is Bastille or vice versa, but I am obsessed with it all the same.

Confession #2 – Reading Jane Borden’s debutante-in-NYC memoir, “I Totally Meant to Do That,” made me wish I had more southerner in me than my love for pulled chicken and fried okra.  That’s not all that scandalous.  Here is the real confession: when I am (1) tired, (2) drunk, or (3) fake polite I speak with a disturbingly authentic southern drawl.  I used to work 10+ hours shifts at a bar that encouraged imbibing and catered exclusively to obnoxious tourists; hitting the trifecta meant that I would introduce myself to my tables and the folks from Alabama would always exclaim “you sound just like us!!”

Confession #3 – When you wash your hands you are supposed to sing “Happy Birthday” twice to make sure that you do it long enough.  I felt silly singing to no one and hand-washing is about killing not birthing so now when I wash my hands I sing “Happy Deathday, dear germs…” x2.

Confession #4 – The Buzzfeed article linking to old Disney shorts pretty much made my life.  When I was a kid I had a VHS recording of some Scooby Doo episodes and the short I embedded below, “Applecore,” was also on the video.  I got so nostalgic rewatching it 20 odd years later.

Confession #5 – Even though Webster is of German stock, he shivers like a little girl whenever he goes outside in the winter.  Some times I tease him that he is a chilly dog.  Then I tell him he wishes he was a chili dog because then he’d be nice and warm.  Then I laugh hysterically at my own punny joke and the dog gives me this face:

Bonus Confession – I have to Google “Roman Numerals” every time I write one of these posts.