It looks like there's a tagging game going around. Once you've been "tagged", you have to tell your readers five things about yourself that they didn't already know.

My boss, Jeff, tagged me. And, since he's my boss and stuff, I figure I better do this.

Also, I think it'll help me move on from my posts about 2006. I need to get past that stuff as quickly as possible, and I see this as an easy way out.

Here, then, are five things about me that you probably didn't already know (I say "probably" because some of you are close friends/family, and I may have already written about some of this stuff and just forgotten):

#1 - Autodidactic Driver

I taught myself how to drive when I was thirteen years old.

A friend of mine, Bryce Hale, had parents who left one of their cars at home everyday when they went to work. Bryce and I, geniuses that we were, thought it would be a good idea to make use of this spare car.

It was a brown, mid-80s Oldsmobile POS. It ran like crap, looked like crap, and even smelled like crap, but...

...we had the keys.

We drove that thing almost every day of the summer, picking up other friends of ours along the way. We'd take turns driving, trading tips and such.

My big tip was that stop signs with white borders were optional. I have no idea where I got this idea. It was just firmly planted into my head, and I made sure my friends knew this rule, too. I should apologize, then, if those of you living in the Portland area were ever cut off by a car full of adolescents who hadn't yet read the Oregon DMV manual in which it is clearly stated that stop signs, regardless of border color, are not optional.

We thought we were pretty slick, too. We thought that nobody suspected us. Yet, in retrospect, I have to wonder what the gas station attendants thought when we pulled up, our voices cracking, faces covered in acne, feet barely able to reach the pedals, and bought $2.53 of gas using nothing but loose change.

The furthest we ever went was to the beach. We skipped school, grabbed the females we found most attractive, and made the one and a half hour drive out to the Seaside boardwalk. As soon as we got there, we turned right around and came home.

The joyriding stopped following one particularly bad outing. After building up some courage, a group of us made a habit of driving many of our parents' cars. One of our favorites belonged to the cruel stepfather attorney of my friend Peter. The stepfather's name was Milt, and, I can assure you, he was a complete and total prick. That's why it didn't bother me so much when Bryce and Peter blew our chances at further car driving adventures by taking Milt's S class Mercedes and driving over about nineteen mailboxes, ruining the mailboxes, the car, and any trust that might have existed between us and Milt.

Also, Bryce peed out of the car by standing up with the sunroof open. We all revered and respected Bryce for this gutsy move.

#2 - I'm an Idiot

It seems that a lot of my untold past involves cars.

This time, I was going on a camping trip with a bunch of friends when we were all about sixteen (as a point of interest, my ex-fiancee, Aydika, was with us).

On the way out to the camping spot, my friend Ben and I got bored. We were in his busted up Ford Taurus, and were doing about ninety miles an hour when we decided to trade places. He was at the wheel, and I wanted to drive.

The switch was simple. Ben crawled out of his window and onto the roof while I was still in the passenger seat.

Then, as Ben crawled across the roof of the car to come in the passenger side window, I shifted positions over to the driver's seat.

The whole thing took less than a minute, and we didn't lose any speed along the way.

Not quite sure what we were thinking.

#3 - No, Really - I'm an Idiot

This is a story I've never told because I figured my parents would kill me - even though more than a decade has passed since it happened.

Again, it involved a car. This time, it was a 1968 Pontiac Bonneville convertible. If you aren't familiar with these, they're about twenty feet long and wide enough for six people to sit side-by-side in the back. Monsters.

When I was sixteen, I used to fill the car with my friends. We would then smoke large quantities of marijuana and cruise off to a road we all knew very well on account of the large number of times we had driven down it.

It was a long, twisty road, and it had a slope that was just perfect to keep the car moving at the same speed whether or not gas was being applied. This detail is very important.

As soon as we got to this street, the fun began. And, I can tell you, as stupid as it was, it was also very relaxing.

The "idiot" factor comes in here: we would all stand up during the drive down this road.

All of us.

Including me, the driver.

The wind ripped through our hair, and I would be standing on the driver's seat, leaning over the windshield of the car (we always had the top down), and I'd just steer that car as though it was a boat. It even felt a bit like a boat, the way it glided back and forth.

A couple time, when that ceased to be exciting enough, I got out of the driver's seat entirely and stood on the hood of the car, my body facing backward, while I leaned over, held onto the wheel, and managed to steer with my head craned around.

I think testosterone might have had something to do with that move. There were girls in the car I needed to impress. And impressed they were.

And, I know: I'm lucky to be alive.

But those were the days...

#4 - I Started Smoking Newspaper in the Fourth Grade

Although I don't still smoke it, I think that I was unusually young when I started smoking newspaper.

It began during one of my birthday parties. A bunch of friends were spending the night. My father, a bit of a drinker at the time, was passed out in another room.

I think it was sometime around 1:00 AM when the first bit of newspaper was rolled into something resembling a cigar (at least in shape).

We each took a few puffs, noting that it tasted bad. And, by "bad", I mean it tasted how I imagine licking a monkey's asshole would probably taste. Not that I'd do that. I'm just saying.

I had the idea to go out to the yard and collect leaves from one of our mint plants so we could affect the flavor of the newspaper in such a way that it would taste a little bit less like a life-threatening toxin, and more like a life-threatening toxin with a touch of mint.

It worked.

Throughout the night, we got better and better at our craft. By the end, we were able to produce "cigars" that burned slowly, didn't taste completely awful, and which had partially dried mint rather than the fresh stuff (we used the oven for that).

Never leave your children alone. Not for a bloody second.

#5 - Five

There are currently three women I'd marry without a thought, and two I'd strongly consider marrying.

If that doesn't make me an idiot, then nothing does.

Next

I'm supposed to tag other people with this thing now. That's how the game works.

So, I'm tagging:

Blue, Jason, Nicole, George (congrats on the MVP award :), and Aydika (provided her MySpace profile is public and that she's willing to use the blog).

I have no idea if any of these people will participate, and I cannot be held responsible for whatever courses of action they choose to take.

I wash my hands clean of this thing.

My work here is done.