Alphabetical Truth

These are the ABC’s of a blogger named Dr. Sparky Louise Veronica Horton Brady.

A is for angel hair pasta. As an uomo italiano giovane, I eat my fair share of pasta. And if I have my choice, I go with the thin stuff. Save the linguini for someone else, Baby.

B is for Backstreet Boys, most notably Howie Dorough. Howie was the first true love of my life. One time he even touched me. I swore I would never wash my hand again, but the smell began to get a little intense.

C is for cranberries. I love cranberries. I love cranberry juice. And cranberry sauce. And cranberry scented candles. And cranberry soap. Cranberries rule!

D is for Dorota. If you do not know who Dorota is, tune in to the CW Monday at 8:00 (7:00 Central).

E is for eggs benedict. When done well, this is possibly the greatest breakfast food on the planet. Wanna do brunch?

F is for fear. It may not often show on the surface, but I am a big chicken. I’m afraid of, among other things, love and snakes and drag queens.

G is for gay. I’m so gay. If you haven’t figured that out yet, seek help. Please.

H is for hips. I’m no Shakira, but my hips are fond of telling the truth as well. For a fat boy, I can work it. Watch out or you might get whiplash just watching me.

I is for introvert. No one would vouch for it, but I’m a pretty shy person. But I’m also good at hiding who I really am. That’s why people peg me as an outrageous freak when I am really a shy little lamb of a man.

J is for jolly. Like another lovable fat man (who is known for his bad fashion sense and generous nature), I am a jolly fellow. And if you tickle me, I also shake like a bowl full of jelly.

K is for Kraft. I love cheese. Props to Kraft!

L is for laughter. I’ve been told I am a funny lad, and I believe it. Even if I’m not, I’m still going to laugh. Laughter just feels right.

M is for music. “If music be the food of love, play on.” Music is life. Music is love. Music is me. There is nothing without music.

N is for nothing.

O is for orgasms. They’re good, no?

P is for Party of Five. This show defined me as a teenager. How I longed to be an orphan who had to deal with cancer, miscarriages, paying the bills and falling in love with Jeremy London.

Q is for quiet. Sometimes I just need down time. No music. No books. No blogs. Just me.

R is for reading. I’m one of those people who is always reading something. I wouldn’t be caught dead on the train without something to read.

S is for sexy. It took me a long time, but I finally believe that (to a small percentage of the human population) I am sexy. Sometimes I forget it, but having the knowledge is half the battle.

T is for teleplay. Someday I will write the next great American television show. Death to reality TV!

U is for umbrellas. Before moving to the Midwest, I did a lengthy stint in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. It rains a lot there. I went through my fair share of umbrellas during those nine years.

V is for victory. I’ve won a few measly contests in my day. Nothing has been worth writing home about, but I can officially say that I am not a loser. How many people can officially say that?

W is for words. Words are wondrous.

X is for xeric. I prefer such vegetation in my home as my thumb is not green.

Y is for yarn. I do not sew, but I can tell a good tale. I promise that anything you read on Welcome to My Truth is mostly true, however.

Z is for zodiac. My birthday is November 22. This puts me smack dab in the middle of Sagittarius and Scorpio. That makes me the ever elusive Sagio.