Very Short Bio:
toady is a total doucheface. i saw him at the store the other day and he totally whacked me with the coldest of shoulders, all the while eyeballing my girlfriend head to toe and whispering salt n pepa lyrics.
plus, he is always going on about himself in the third person, which is tré irratationing and angrifying.
what a dick.
ok. how about a real bio, and in the first person...
my name is todd haggerty, and i can't seem to find the shift key on my keyboard. i'm from washington state, which is probably the second best state to be in (after the state of nirvana). i currently live in norway, and something (possibly the wife and daughter thing) tells me i will be here for a while.
i make music.
i'm not a very good soundclouder, as i take a lot more than i give, and am not the best at following up and leaving comments on other people's tracks. trust me, if i had more time then that would change.
i know my moniker sucks, but every time i come up with a name i like, i google them shits and discover that it's already been taken by some jackass and his or her terrible doof-doof music. sometimes i play with the idea of changing my name to "the ninja fireman," as those were the two professions i pictured myself pursuing as a child.
i'm a cook by profession, which is apparently what five years of uni amounts to. i do make a mean iceberg lettuce and mayonnaise salad. that was a joke. i make those too.
sometimes i get confused in the middle of the night and dig around frantically in the sheets in search of my daughter, who is sound asleep in the next room. or occasionally i will get up and take the sheets off the bed in an attempt to expose the spiders. i know they are there. other times, i will just mumble something to my wife about taking a door off its hinges.
i am afraid of the dark, and if i am home alone at bedtime i will turn on the tv in the other room for a little light and noise. also, the gypsy lady from "drag me to hell" scares me shitless, and when i am showering i often imagine that she is just on the other side of the shower curtain.
my favorite color is yellow, or blue (depending on who is asking).
i hope you like my music, as it reflects on me, and i like people who like me. maybe that isn't true in all cases, but i definitely don't like people who don't like me. i think that's a normal reaction, though.
let's see... what else.... i've recently started to pick my nose and eat it when no one is looking. our little secret. i think it is a good way for me to stay in touch with the child i once was. besides, it's just dirt and oil, which are two of the three main ingredients in greek gastronomy (the third is blind anger).
i like to flex in the bathroom mirror, and i leave the door open a crack in the hope that i will be caught. it gives me a good opportunity to practice being bashful.
I constantly make fart noises with my mouth. it doesn't serve any purpose. it doesn't even approach comedy so much as indicate my fear of silence, and the need i feel to fill any still moment with impressions of flatulence and other, sometimes senseless and wholly imagined onomatopoeia.the only thing stopping me from filling this bio with fart sounds is my lack of certainty as to how i might spell them."theeewwwp!" ""fffffrrrrrp!" my mouth gas seems always to end with a "p." i suppose such a burst of air could only be reenacted with the help of an un-voiced, bilabial plosive.... it lends the necessary pop, the perfect accent.
as of late, i've begun to speak english with a heavy russian accent: "in my country, i am cardiologist.here, i am worker in cafeteria. mother would cry if kremlin allowed."
a few weeks ago i was turned. i know you kids have watched enough of those crappy twilight movies to know what that means. yep. i've been turned into a vampire.
i was somewhere between dreams, sweating under my covers... although truly, there is nothing unusual about this. the pad between the bed sheet and the mattress will speak to this in yellowish, unpleasant tones.
suddenly i found myself awake, albeit damn groggy, and keenly aware of the presence of a third party in our bedroom. my wife's deep breathing filled my right ear, betraying her state of slumber and the fact that she was totally unaware that we had company.
at first it was only a feeling, but within a few moments i was able to make out the dark form standing next to our bed, adjacent to my feet and practically leaning on them.
a whisper was let out. "shhhh. a need to worry there is not. only for to speak with you have i come."
surprised by both the comfort i found in his quiet tone and manner, and the fact that he formed his phrases like yoda, i found myself shifting my legs towards the center of the bed, as if to invite him to sit beside my legs. and sit he did.
so we talked. well, mostly he talked, and for what seemed like hours we remained engaged in conversation, the contents of which i honestly can't remember even the foggiest bits of. i do remember being convinced that my wife would wake at any moment, and i remember worrying that she might react rather strongly to a stranger in our bedroom, even one who talked so gently and seemed very much an amiable fellow from the first instant on.
after what must have been a grand and lengthy dialogue, i recall one short phrase escaping my lips: "i guess that would be fine." in the next instant, so immediate, in fact, that i started a bit, he was at my neck. not in any sort of monstrous or animal manner, really. in point of fact, i found him to be very gentle and polite, the perfect gentleman, as he passed onto me what he called a "gift." this word, "gift," to be honest made me a little apprehensive. i knew quite well that in the german language "gift" means "poison", and also that in norwegian it can mean either "poison" or "married;" both of these being somewhat frightening in each its own way.
and just like that it was done. given, no immediate change occurred in my own person. and bits of our conversation entered my lobes, apparently retained on some subconscious level, and quite clearly at that, which pertained to just this. "alarmed should you not find yourself," he had told me, "if some days, or even weeks, should pass, and no sign of my gift should you notice. its own time, and its own course does it take."
and then he was at the door. i laugh a little now at the thought, but i remember thinking it odd that a vampire should use the door in exiting a room, although i'm not quite sure what other grandiose form of exit i had expected him to employ.
as he was just out of sight, i called "wait! what is your name?!" and a great deal of time passed, much more than one should need to answer such a question, before his voice answered, soft yet firm, from the other side of the bedroom door,
my wife then rolled towards me, her eyes still shut, her lips smacking a few times, and then parting enough to say, "could you open the window?" i had nearly forgotten she was there, but i obliged her and opened the window, and then, well, i don't know. i must have simply just fallen asleep.