D-Man Bites Dog
Marking my territory, one expletive at a time.
Bad memes are made of this...
19 October, 2005 ---- 4:59 PM

Define: Meme.
“An idea, project, statement or even a question that is posted by one blog and responded to by other blogs.”


Arrrggh.

I’ve been tagged.

No, I’ve been tag-teamed.

You know, when someone does a meme on their blog and then nominates you to do likewise.

I hate memes. Because doing them means I have to think. And I hate that.

The last (and only other time) I attempted this, it took me several posts to get rid of the damn confounded thing.


I swore: Never Again.

But … seeing as I actually have nothing better to do at the moment … What. The. Hey.

The first one comes courtesy of the lovely Herstrionics. (I love her moniker).

Basically, I have to post 20 random things about myself. Oh yes, these will be random…


Here goes:


  1. Sometimes I sneak into people's properties and steal a sock off their clothes line.

  2. Sometimes I sneak into people's properties and peg a sock that I have stolen from somewhere else onto their clothesline. I’m part of a shadowy international gang of sock-stealers. If you’re missing a sock, it was probably us.

  3. I invade defenceless nations and overthrow their governments in my spare time. Because it makes me feel tough. And it’s a good opportunity to stock up on Duty Free bourbon on the flight home.

  4. I’m licensed to be journalistic. Or I was until it got revoked after I crashed my computer into a firewall while drink-writing one night. Several apostrophes were killed & an ampersand was injured.
    Or maybe I’m using journalistic licence in this paragraph as well…

  5. When I grow up, I want to rule an evil Spam empire. But I would settle for being in charge of a really annoying one, if that’s the best I could manage.

  6. I can write with my left hand and my right hand. But I can never work out what it is I've written with my left hand.

  7. I can talk to animals. But I have no idea what they’re saying.

  8. I used to be in a Fight Club.

  9. I hate fighting and will go out of my way to avoid having to break someone’s bones or cut their air supply until blood runs from their ears.

  10. But sometimes not far enough.

  11. My grandfather was a bit of a vigilante. He was killed trying to stop car thieves.

  12. My dead grandfather has, allegedly, spoken to an aunt through a medium, and passed on some information that apparently checked out.

  13. But she's a little loopy, like most of my family, so I don't take that as useful proof of the afterlife.

  14. I have Awesome Psychicotic Powers. I can control traffic lights. And I can see things before they actually happen. Take the other day, for example: An SUV stopped suddenly in front of me, and there was no time to stop and then this image of me smashing into the back of it popped into my head, and then … this is the freaky part … then I actually smashed into the back of it. Spooky.

  15. I fear that the reason I go on all the time about hating hippies is because, secretly, I am one.

  16. But I'm still a redneck.

  17. I think The Godfather, Part 3 is actually an OK movie.

  18. I don't always finish what I start.




  20. OK, the next tag comes courtesy of TJ, who, ironically went on about how she hated doing memes, then did it, then said, and I quote:

    “If anyone decides to tag me again you can kiss my big old white Yankee ASS!!!! I play nicely 'til you piss me off and you don't want to piss me off, do you?!”


    Then went ahead and passed the tag on to me. Like a bad chain letter. Or a bad case of monkey pox.

    Wench.

    Anyway, this one goes:

    1. Go into your archives.
    2. Find your 23rd post.
    3. Post the fifth sentence. (or as close to it as possible)
    4. Post the text of that sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
    5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

    The result:

    “I'm sane, I'm sane, I'm sane…”

    OK. Payback’s a bitch.
    I tag Herstrionics with the easy 23rd post one.
    And I tag TJ with the 20 Things meme.
    Suffer.


    If anyone else wants to adopt them, feel free. Give them a good home. Or put them in a sack and throw them off a bridge. I don’t care.

    But I don’t advise anyone tag the Last Girl On Earth, because she writes songs about such experiences and puts them on the internet. You’ve been warned.

    Actually, come to think about it … forget about being an evil Spam lord. I think I’m going to create memes and chain letters instead…

    Buwahahahaaaaa!!!
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