Reader N.B. shares some eerie similarities with my dear friend and co-blogger N.P. The initials, of course, stand out. Both write wonderful blogs: N.P at The Coffee-Stained Writer and N.B. at Secundum Artem. And both seem to take perverse pleasure in tagging me for memes so they can watch me scream.
This, with the election heating up, and my every waking moment spent obsessing over tight races all over the country.
But what the hell. It gives me a prime opportunity to tackle N.P. with a meme instead of being the one on the bottom of the dog pile. And N.B. is a fellow tuxedo cat slave, not to mention having exquisite taste in potty-mouthed political blogs. So why the fuck not?
Here are the rules for the game.
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.
Right, then. Let’s have a rummage around the old brainpan.
Random bit numero uno: I once came within spitting distance of being certified as a pharmacy worker. I threw that over for a brief career in the credit card industry because I couldn’t survive a training class in which the majority of our time was spent watching the instructor stare hopelessly at his computer screen, wondering what he was supposed to be teaching next.
Random bit numero dos: The tuxedo cat who owns me has a disconcerting habit of startling herself awake, meowing at me, and then biting me gently on an exposed limb before jumping off the bed. I have no idea why.
Random bit numero tres: I have a bust of Alexander the Great by my bedroom door. Alexander the Great, in fact, is one of my favorite people of all time. Despite being a conquerer, he was actually an astonishingly nice guy. This is how nice he is: as he lay dying, he was asked when he wanted his subordinates to perform his funeral rites. “When you are happy,” he said. Thinking of his people to the last.
Random bit numero quatro: I used to be an enormous Dukes of Hazzard fan. My bike was named The General Lady. Somehow that squared with my obsession with Knight Rider, which led to me attempting to persuade my mother to buy me a Trans Am when I was eight years old. She was unswayed by my passionate logic that it would be only another eight years before I could drive it. (I did end up getting a Firebird from that era when I was seventeen, so it all worked out.)
Random bit numero cinco: Greatest moment in smoking evah: Years ago, I was having a quiet smoke out in front of the mall where I worked when a woman stumped up and launched into a lecture. “You shouldn’t smoke. That’s going to kill you someday.” I took the cigarette from my mouth, looked at her somberly, and said, “Yes, ma’am, I know. It’s called population control.” Her jaw slammed into the sidewalk, and she did about thirty seconds of a beached salmon impression before the guy who was with her managed to stop laughing long enough to haul her away. Priceless, I tell you.
Random bit numero seis: I used to hate J.R.R. Tolkien, politics, and alcohol. Now I’m a Lord of the Rings fanatic with a political blog who adores tequila and wine. Funny ol’ world, innit?
I do hereby annoint N.P at The Coffee-Stained Writer as my successor. I do not, as a matter of policy, foist these things on others, and so it’s up to the rest of you to annoint yourselves. If any of you tackle this meme, let me know in comments, and we’ll have a special linkfest of a post a bit later on.