It hurts to be this pure.

 The other day, in Biomedical Technology, we were given a worksheet that simply asked, who is your idol?
To which I replied, I have none. I thought, what a strange thing to ask, who is my idol? And I have none, that's the truth- though, I'm sure, had they asked, 'who is your role model?' I would have responded entirely differently. Or would I have? Who are my role models? I can't say that I know.
Let me think. Augusten Burroughs. Karl Marx. Alex Day. Jesus, I don't know. (Jesus, in this context, is in interjection. Not a name. Although, he certainly did have a knack for getting people to do what he wants, right? Fuck it, let's add Jesus to the list.) Jesus. I thought of some other ones, earlier, but I forgot. I was just reading this book by John Waters, not coincidentally, entitled Role Models. He's a fucking character. His role models are Little Richard, Rei Kawakubo, Bobby Garcia, Leslie Van Houten... and the Wicked Witch of the West. He's a fucking awesome writer.
Huh. Well. I had something else to say, but I forgot it. Oh wait! Carlos Slim.
I keep thinking of different role models. Now it is role model week. Every day I will name a new role model. GIMMICK.
Also, my comment got featured in a Tyler Oakley video. Specifically, 'Tyler's Favorite Things: August', for my comment describing a woman living in my town who owns a car covered in baby doll heads. To which I added, TRUE STORY. And it is.