I have never tried a twinkie. Deep fried or otherwise.
With the exception of walking to/in public places, I'm almost *always* barefoot. I drive barefoot. I use my sewing machine pedal barefoot. When I was a kid, I could write with my foot.
I'm obsessed with organizing. The house I grew up in was messy (with three caaaa-razy kids my mom couldn't keep up!) so now my apartment is filled with organizational bins, baskets, and boxes. And everything has its place -- even if I forget where that place might be.
The smell of bananas make me sick. So does the smell of chocolate fudge. And cherry/berry kool-aid. When I was a kid if I was sneaking food stuff my mom would buy/make a bunch and let me gorg myself until I threw up. I blame her.
I also used to be afraid I'd get hungry/thirsty in the middle of the night. BUT, since I shared a room with my very light sleeper of a sister I couldn't get up to go to the kitchen. My solution? Hide food/drinks in/under my bed & sheets. I still do this. There are snacks in my nightstand and there is always a bottle of water on the floor next to my side of the bed. (Side note- my dad caught me taking food to my room last time I was at th farm and said: guess things never changed. Then laughed at me)
I was destined to work with money somehow. The toys I always wanted as a kid was the fake money and Monopoly games. Either that or I will hold out until I can marry rich. ;)
My dad is a veteran, ex-cop, ex-chief of police, and gunsmith....but I once wrote a three page essay on why all firearms should be taken from people in the world. He didn't talk to me for days & still gets a twitch when I mention it.
Also, my dad was the mayor of the town I grew up in. I can remember playing in the court house that used to be an opera house -- so there were tons of nooks and crannys and old jail cells to play in the same place.