The regularly scheduled drivel/pap/tripe has been moved below the meme – scroll down to have your IQ lowered by 15% or more in 15 minutes or less.
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Another MEME
And now… on to my meme… Weasel had just posted it and I took pity on our poor mustelidae as the little critter has had interesting times lately, and I was bored, so I picked up the gauntlet.
The directions looked fairly innocuous at first blush, so without any real review beforehand, I post them. As soon as I hit “paste” it will be my first time of really processing the rules, myself.
- Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
- Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
- Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
- Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
- Present an image of martial discord from whatever period or situation you’d like.
1) Done. See link above, word #7 – “Weasel” Click on it. Have fun. A true artiste.
2) Seven facts…
- I only set my alarm clock in prime numbers, repeating digits as few times as possible. Preferably not in order and odd numbers. 7:31AM is good. 8:57 is not bad, but it isn’t optimal. Increments of 5 minutes are to be avoided if at all possible.
- I have witnessed a laser operating on a line at 385nm (thereabouts) and it is so blue-ish that you can actually perceive it but your eye cannot focus it at all – it becomes this blob of silvery-blue color that we have no name for in any language.
- I do not turn green and destroy everything in sight if people just use the correct pronunciation “Orygun”
- I understand the Tao of Monk (Mr. Monk)
- I am ambidextrous and aquadextrous (go look it up)
- Favorite TV Moment of All Time: WKRP in Cincinnati, the episode where Les Nessman releases turkeys out of a helicopter for a Thanksgiving Promotional… “Oh, they’re letting them out now… oh.. OH… OH MY GOD… they’re hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement! They’re hitting cars and people are scattering! Oh the humanity!” and later… “Aw, Les, c’mon… how were you to know that turkeys can’t fly?”
- I have broken people’s arms merely by flexing my ego
3) Tag people. Enas Yorl, Steamboat McGoo, and KC. I haven’t looked to see if they’ve been tagged yet nor will I tag a full seven people. Tag too many people and the geometric progression fizzles out too rapidly, like putting LOx on burning coals UPDATE: McGoo had to decline due to conflicting obligations – he is a contributing writer to Pravda -and- it was recently disclosed by WikiLeaks that he is actually in leagues with the evil Dr. Coypu. You have been warned.
I would tag Old Iron but I’m afraid he’ll be even more incoherenter than usual, as he is engaged in a mult-week binge. He was last seen drinking this blue liqueur that is commonly used to clean combs and chasing it with Sterno™.
4) As soon as this is posted, I shall endeavor to do so
5) An image of marital discord. Okay.
Oh. Martial discord. Screw it. Marital-Martial Discord. Same thing.
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Why Will the Phone Just not die, Die, DIE???
You have had this happen to you, I know it. You are busy. You are engrossed in teasing out the remaining links to the Grand Unified Theory (GUT) and there are two relationships that you see tying several constants together. Or like me you were pondering what color to make a part in your solid model. When SUDDENLY, the shrill ring of your telephone pierces your brain from seventeen distinct directions simultaneously.
Should you pick it up? It could be someone annoying. It could be a loved one with bad news. It could be Heidi the Tool Girl from Home Improvement. But that’s just ridiculous. Loved ones would use the cell phone.
So you’re torn in true “Lady or the Tiger” terms. Pick it up and hate yourself or pick it up and… but the odds are as good as 50-50, right? So you reach out, pick up the phone… and…
Well, let’s just put down what happened to me, quasi-verbatim, ok? Where you see “Clancy Twerp” (not his real name) it is just a placeholder since I never remember a person’s name the first time. “Snickerdoodle Farms Connectors” is about as close as I’m going to get to the real company name. “Turnip root connectors” and “lace bowling ball feedthrus”… as you’ll see, I didn’t care, so I did not process what he was saying very well.
Anyway.
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Me: (sigh of disgust, pick up phone)
Me: Hello?
Twerp: Hi I’m Clancy Twerp from Snickerdoodle Farms Connectors, how are you today?
Me: (Noticing on my phone display that Twerp is in the vestibule of our building) Fine. What’s this about?
Twerp: (hurriedly and in staccato delivery) Well, we deal with turnip root connectors and lace bowling ball feedthrus and I have a name here… uh… (here he uses the name of the friend who I have referred to in the past as “The Dude“).
Me: Okay. (long pause)
Twerp: I haven’t been able to reach him. Would you by any chance be interested in our connectors?
Me: Not a chance.
(crickets chirp for several seconds, then, sounds of gears grinding)
Twerp:: Ok. Who else do you think I could talk to?
Me: Maybe the guy you wanted originally, The Dude?
Twerp: Ok… right… I’ll try him.
Me: Fine, you do that.
<end of call>
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