Me me me me me me Meme

Lord lord. You open yourself up for one meme and then there's more. It's like meme porn. I'm expecting the pizza delivery guy to ask me to type the answers to five questions about myself.

Brownchickenbrowncow. (sing that, you'll get it).

Dr. Monkey von Monkerstein has tagged me with this meme he got from Splotchy who has made silliness an art form.

Here goes:

The rules.

1. Post the rules

2. Close your eyes

3. Count to five seconds

4. Type a whole bunch of random crap on the keyboard while you're counting

5. Open your eyes

6. Tag a few people

alkjd

lkeowsekmn

b kjsoekn mcaciani

kmamaoendoiken

lkmea

amel.

There, look! It is a prayer in maninka that John McCain go home to Arizona ne'er to bother us no more. Lovely. And even though it was thrust upon me from a monkey, it was not 1000 monkeys typing for 1000 years to come up with Hamlet. Or however that stupid trope goes.

I never tag anyone because I am a brat like that.

Kisses.
Jess.

Say a Little Meme with Me

The Delightful DGuzman of Impeachment and other dreams tagged me with a meme. Little questions, little answers. Let's see how this goes:

1. Clothes Shop: Savers. Like Goodwill, but money goes to Easter Seals. Whenever you take something there for donation, they give you a 20% off coupon. I started shopping there because the Wundruns are trying to only buy American made products or second hand items. I may never go back to "real" clothes stores again. Honestly, I've probably never bought nicer clothes for myself than since I started buying second hand. (Most of which have never been worn). My little secret is that I've been buying shoes there, too. An amazing amount of shoes come in never worn. I've taken to wearing chunky heels to work, I threaten Artie, the republican dude with a kick to the crotcheola if he pisses me off. Heels are very empowering. Whoops, I digress.

2. Furniture Shop: My sofas came from a local boutique and were manufactured in North Carolina. My kitchen set is a '50s chrome and vinyl retro deal I got at an antique store. My dining room table is from Ikea (it seats ten). My bed is still the one I had when I was married to the ex. Feng Shui acolytes will tell me I ought to get rid of it, what with the fact that ex boned his girlfriend on it. Oh well.

3. Sweet: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

4. City: Middleton Wisconsin, population 16,000. If I run for mayor, maybe the next stop would be the White House?

5. Drink: pinot grigio. (red wine makes my tummy go whoo.) I'll never turn down a Margarita on the rocks no salt, though.

6. Music: it dawned on me today that I have a thing for wussy bands: Cold Play, Snow Patrol, Oasis. But this is just a phase. It could be worse, I could have said Toby Keith.

7. TV Series: Mad Men

8. Film: Auntie Mame (but you knew that)

9. Workout: yoga. There's a nap at the end for pete's sake! Oh, and I should mention here that I finally got the kayak I was dreaming about last spring. More on that later.

10: Pastries: birthday cake (particularly if it is mine)

11. Coffee: Fair Trade whole bean. I like Guatemalan and Costa Rican. (Coffee is exempt from our 'buy American' program, though Maui Girl says I should buy Hawaiian Kona coffee.)

Yet another strain of the virus

Looks like m. yu tagged me about the same time I tagged m.yu.

Here's this appendage:

"I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words." (Splotchy)

"Meet me at two o'clock at Grisham Square. Don't be late!"




"What? I already had an appointment at that time. In fact, that was the only reason I had even taken off work that Wednesday. But, when I saw the photos, I knew I had to go and see what the hell was going on. Oh gosh, now I wish I hadn't, but how was I to know then that Elizabeth would take this whole thing so far?" (Freida Bee)

"I saw I had an hour to go to get there so went inside, and grabbed my bag, my video camera, and just to be safe, my new taser gun that my Dad gave me for Christmas. As I drove out of town to Grisham Square, I remembered how all this began. Or should I say, began to go wrong.



Elizabeth was always someone who could talk me into anything. Her mischievous smile and "I dare you" eyes have gotten me in trouble many times before. Now looking at those damn photos, I couldn't help thinking she had done it again!



"Let's go out there," she kept saying. "No one will know," she said running her hand along my waist like she always does, knowing how it melts me. Damn her! Damn her golden brown and oh so soft spankable hide! In the back of my mind, I knew things would come to trouble. They always do with her. I should never have gone with her out to that abandoned prison for that video shoot. With all that time we were there and with all those depraved things we did, I always thought we were alone. Now I know. I was wrong." (M.Yu)

Look, lovin spoofuls of depredation are sometimes only sexy if you think someone is looking on. Proferring a grade. I often wonder if sex was really, really dull before the onset of celluloid pictures, or if it was better thanks to neither partner performing, rather just doing. Who knows? Our grandparents probably just rutted a lot. Though this is something I'd rather not think about.

But our secret was out. And does it matter if it's a secret? What's the purpose of a secret? To hide or to protect? Would I care? I don't want to hide. Protection is another matter altogether.

___________

Okay, who to send this on to? I've got no idea. Ummmm, I think I'm just going to send it back to Mr. Splotchy Smartypants to see what he will do with it.

And the story goes....

Splotchy started another story virus. Thus far no eyeballs in applesauce jars, and least not per Splotchy, FranIam and DGuzman who has infected me. (Cover your mouth when you sneeze, Miss D!)

Here goes:

Splotchy's ominous beginning:
"I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words."(Splotchy)

Despite the throbbing pain in my knees and the dull ache in my lower back, I bent down slowly and picked up the envelope...

Oh no. It did not say this, did it?

Oh yes, it did. It did.

The handwriting was familiar in a way that inspired a cold sweat and a bout of nausea. It was the penmanship of my former husband. You know - the one that was presumed dead.

He disappeared in a suspicious blogging related accident a number of years ago and was never heard from again. I was devastated. I had hated the blog, loathed the thing. What began as a hobby that took but a few minutes a day had morphed into an addiction, the proportions of which could not be measured. It was pure evil.

The blog turned into a cruel and demanding mistress and her siren song was more than I could compete with. One day he left for an evening event, never to return again.

All fingers pointed to one blogger, but I could never get the charges to stick. That one is slick- slick, slick, slick. He can talk a good game and write like nobody's business. But there is something about him, it just is not right.

So my husband was gone, that other one kept blogging and I had to rebuild my life, which I did.

So I finally had the bastard declared dead. And now this. (FranIam)

I took the envelope inside and got out a magnifying glass. I studied the scribblings on the front and made out the words “This is for you. You KNOW why” just above the undead bastard’s name. What the hell?

What could it be? What did he mean, I “KNOW” why? What did I do? I had never been anything but faithful to him and his "interests." I followed his stupid blog as it meandered through the vapid expanses of his small mind, trying my best to be polite when he talked about some comment he’d gotten on a particular post, or a funny link he’d dropped into a post.

Just thinking about it made my stomach hurt.

Despite a fleeting fear that there might be anthrax powder in the envelope, I opened it and pulled out the contents. (dguzman)

A noodle, a meatball and one of the six legs of a squid? (Squid have six legs, not eight, right? Unsure I rushed to my computer to ask The Lord Google. OMG, I was wrong! Squid do have eight legs. And two tentacles. Like cuttlefish. I digress. Damn you Google!)

What was he working on when he had that blogging accident? I thought back to the nights of feverish typing. The nights the keyboard fairly reeked of despair, flopsweat and ricola. He would babble "vision quest" "noodly appendage" "the alpha and the semolina" "green sticky spawn of the stars". This last I just attributed to far too much interest in the pussy photos of Britney Spears.

In shaky handwriting was the couplet:

That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange æons even death may die

I felt that I was beginning to understand. He had been killed in an epic battle of Good versus Not-So-Good or even "meh!" (Jess Wundrun)

***********

Okay, got that done. Let's see. I am going to tag Randal Graves, though he's been tagged once already with the virus I practically wrote my addition for him to clean up. M. Yu at Social Seppuku, and Commander Other. If any of you are staunch anti-meme-ists, my regrets.

More About Me, meh.

* The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.


* Each player answers the questions about himself or herself.


* At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.


1. Ten years ago I was:

Married to someone else and building a house that I designed. (Yep, I was the general contractor after I fired the guy who was a friend of the ex's) He still lives there. I wish I could've kept the stove - it cost more than one of the cars we have today.


2. Five Things on Today's To Do List:

-Pack for me, kids, dogs to go to Milwaukee to clean up an apartment a tenant just left in a bad state.

-Take Ima to kindergarten orientation

-Go to Lotta's "Reader's Theater" presentation

-Try to find Ima's immunization record. Will give up and call for the clinic to fax me yet another one.

-Stop at favorite truck stop on way to Milwaukee for dinner.

3. Things I'd do if I were a billionare

* Build new homes in New Orleans on a totally new, independent, green power grid.

* Travel obsessively

* Kick Donald Trump in the nuts for being such a dickwad and then laugh at his puny helicopter.


4. Three Bad Habits

* Procrastination

* Poking at trolls with sticks

* I drink too much diet soda.


5. Five Places I've lived

* Oshkosh, Wisconsin - when they still made the overalls there

* New Brunswick, New Jersey - the train conductor said "ElizabethMatawaaaaanEastBrunswickNewBrunswick....."

* Richmond, Virginia - Ben calls it the city of Second Place Trophies for all the Civil War statues in town. I love you, Richmond. Take a joke, please.

* Milwaukee, Wisconsin - On days you didn't smell the foundry to the west, you could smell the mash cooking at Miller Brewery to the east. Contrary to what you might think that's not a great smell.

* A suburb of Madison, Wisconsin (where I am right now. Look at me on Google Earth! I'm right by the window. Wave! Hi there! Ben, put your damn pants on, people are looking!)


6. Five Jobs I've had in life:

* clerk at Ben Franklin store

* Sampler at grocery stores for 7 UP.

* Sales & Marketing Manager for a cat toy company

* Estimator for a construction company

* Lunch lady at a daycare center.

I am going to tag Yoga Korunta, Dr. Zaius, Dean Wormer, ed, and Germaine Gregarious.

Six Thing Meme

Mathman has tagged me with the six thing meme.
Let's see:

1. (Inspired by Mathman's answers) My first car was a 1974 Ford Maverick. Her name was Marge. Road trips were Margical Mystery Tours. Marge's only other owner was a nun, there was a gummy patch on the dash where the dashboard Jesus once reigned. Marge was green and the seat upholstery was green and black stripes. (I wonder if kids today realize that there used to be rather stunning upholstery in cars?)

2. Ima Wundrun, the 4yo weighed 9 lbs 6 oz. at birth. She was ten days overdue and I had to be induced. I spent 1/2 hour in hard labor and the epidural was so great that the nurse told me I had to stop laughing at the doctor's jokes or the baby would come out too fast. When she heard this story, a woman that I worked with remarked "I didn't know your hootchie was so big".

3. Ben and I have been together for eight and a half years. We've moved five times. We have been in the same place for five years. I can't believe how much crap we've accumulated since our last move. With luck, we will never have to move again because I hate moving.

4. My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Herman, sent me and David G. to first grade to learn how to read. When our reading class was over she would have us sit on her enormous lap and read whatever we had learned that day. Our kindergarten classroom was nearly 100 years old at the time. It had once been a one room schoolhouse, and when you laid on your cot for nap time you got to stare up at the tin ceiling and those old glass lights. Today, my old school is a bar/restaurant. I've been to weddings in the gym.

5. When I die I want my ashes scattered somewhere that I have never been. That way, whoever spreads the ashes gets to go on a trip! Currently, I'm thinking Africa.

6. I have man hands. My high school econ teacher once exclaimed 'yee gods, you have big hands'. Making lemonade out of lemons, I was a pretty good soccer goalie in high school. My patented save was to run out to the approaching opponent and grab the ball from right in front of her feet. I'd do this by putting my head where she'd kick it if she went for the ball. Most girls were afraid to kick me in the head. Save! Then there was the girl that took her team to state. She probably thought a goalie that would put her head by a striker's feet was an idiot and she kicked me in the head. I managed the save but since my vision was going in and out in black circles and I was swaying, my coach stood on the sideline and hollered 'Don't Move!'. You are only allowed four steps after a save to get rid of the ball, and if those steps are the stumbles you make right before you pass out, so what?

I'm not tagging anybody because I'm a jerk like that. But thanks for the opportunity to go gabbing about myself, mathman!

Seven Things You May Not Know

Dr. Zaius must be cleaning out the meme closet on his unfurnished home, because he's been handing those memes out like craaaazy. Dean Wormer gave me the seven things meme too, so though I probably should do fourteen, I'll only bore you with seven.

The seven things meme is where I lay seven little secrets on the line for you. Okay, maybe not secrets just things I haven't gotten around to blogging about yet. I have alluded to both my stints in jail and at the United Nations, so since you might know about those, I'll put them in the 'to do' pile and not list them here.

The rules:

List seven random things about yourself that people may not know.

Link the person who sent this to you, and leave a comment on their blog so that their readers can visit yours.

Post the rules on your blog.

Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, linking their blog. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Without further ado:

1. I was once a certified PADI scuba diver. I probably never went diving more than a half a dozen times, but I still have all the gear in the basement. I don't like diving in lakes here in Wisconsin because there are thermoclines, layers of very cold water as you go deeper. When you cross one it's like going from a warm room into a walk-in freezer. Brrrr. Plus it tends to be dark. The darkness and the cold bring on claustrophobia for me, a sensation I never experience otherwise. I liked in the Gulf of Mexico and in the Caribbean but those places are a tad hard to get to on a given Saturday.

2. I jumped out of an airplane twice. Both were static line jumps, where they hook a long line from your parachute to the plane. As you jump when the line becomes taut the parachute pulls out of the pack and Wheeeee! you are on your way. I have a slight fear of heights, but when you parachute you are already falling so there's no need to be afraid. On the first jump I sang "Fly me to the moon" at the top of my lungs during my descent. I hope the two way radio wasn't on! The radio was there to communicate with a guy on the ground who would tell you to 'toggle left' or 'toggle right' to change your direction to get you to the landing zone. Because there was a busy highway and powerlines to the north of the landing zone, you listened very carefully to his instructions. The last instruction they give you is "Flair!" which does not mean to land with great showmanship or aplomb, it means to pull straight down on the toggles which breaks your speed for a soft landing. On my second jump I didn't 'flair' straight down but I pulled the toggles like you would on a weight training machine, without bending my elbows. When I hit the ground I was only about 3/4's of the way through, so hit much harder than I should have. Whoops. I would never do a tandem jump where you go strapped to the belly of an experienced sky diver. Though you get to go up much higher (static jumps are from about 3000 feet, tandems can be 10,000) the landings are more dangerous because people tend to stick their feet out on the landing, breaking legs and ankles.

Though this isn't about me, I thought I'd mention that the first time my sister flew in a plane was when she went skydiving. The first time she flew on a commercial flight she mentioned to the lady sitting next to her that though she'd flown before, she'd never landed.

3. The first time I ever flew in an airplane was when I was 20. I went with Model Organization of the American States to the Assembly in Washington. I didn't tell anyone that I'd never flown before until after we'd gotten there. One of the guys said if he'd have known he'd have given me his window seat. Since then, I always want the window. No matter how often I fly I never get tired of looking down on the planet.

4. I have never been to an opera, or to a ballet, unless you count events in the basement of the library or recitals that include 3 year old dancers. I am a rube. The first show I saw on Broadway was "Les Miserables". My parents were visiting me when I was interning at the UN so I took them. In those days you did not go into Times Square after dark! About ten minutes into Les Mis, dad asked when they were going to stop singing and start talking. I guess he thought it would be like Oklahoma or something. I saw Lion King in its first season. Benjamin Netanyahu and his family were three rows behind us. I sat in the first row center for The Full Monty and got to chat with the orchestra conductor before the show. I was hoping that I might get a sneak peek at the 'montys' in the last scene-sort of an up and under view, but no dice. The last show I saw on Broadway was 'Rent'. Personally, I thought it sucked. Maybe because it had already been made into a movie and had all kinds of hype around it. Maybe because it was in its gazillionth season by then it was a little stale. There was one American Idol chick in it, though.

5. My husband keeps a picture of a Jamaican prostitute licking my nipple under his desk blotter. Though it was hot girl on girl action, I think I can say that I am not now nor have I ever been gay. The nipple licking (enjoyable, btw) occurred the night before we got married in Negril. A friend of ours purchased the services of the prostitute for me as a bachelorette kind of thing, which is how I wound up getting licked by her. I wonder if this precludes me from elected office? I think I'll post the rest of that story on our anniversary.

6. I graduated in the lowest quartile of my high school class. I had a C-/D+ average because I wouldn't do my homework. Thanks to the CLEP tests and high ACT scores, I got to skip most of my college 100 level courses and I was frequently on the Dean's list in college. Though I hate homework, I loved to write papers and I loved to cram for tests. I had three majors: International Studies, Journalism and Political Science. I never did anything with any of them.

7. I taught myself crochet a few months ago. I'm working on an afghan for my mother. It's straight halfdouble chain in stripes. The colors are garish.


There, that was fun. I'm not officially tagging anyone, but have at it if you feel the urge.

D Cup at PoliTits tagged me with the six word meme a week ago, and here I am getting around to it.

Those rules:

1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post.
4. Tag five more blogs with links.
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play

My memoir?

I wish I was wrong sometimes

Okay, I cribbed that off the coaster that my coffee cup is sitting on right now. But I think it works. Now I've plagiarized my own biography. That's pretty telling too!

Again, not tagging. See above.

Thanks, DCup, Dean, and Dr. Zaius for the tags!

Splotchy is spreading a virus. Washing your hands won't help.

Splotchy's viral story is making the rounds. I'm tagged on the spoke of the wheel that is Splotchy, FranIam, Dr. Monkey von Monkerstein and Enriched Geranium.

The story thus far:


I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)



"That's strange," I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen. I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. "What the..." again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room.(FranIam)



She flicked the lid with her massive big toe. "So, I guess I'll be having another Camel for breakfast and you'll be having a breakfast date with the Electrolux." She lit her Camel cigarette as she turned to open the closet door where we kept the vacuum. "In case you're wondering how the applesauce got frozen, I seem to recall you insisting that I stick it in the freezer before we went to bed last night." She pushed the Electrolux at me and it squooshed through the rapidly unfreezing applesauce and the glass shards. "This kind of crap happens all the time when we go drinking with the Brazilians." (Dr. Monkey)

Suddenly, the front door erupted in an explosion of wood splinters. “Jesus in a bucket! They’ve found me!” I thought as I dove out the kitchen window. My experiments with frozen applesauce, Camel cigarettes and Electrolux vacuum cleaners were supposed to be a secret, but, apparently, they weren’t as secret as I had thought. What would happen if the formula fell into the wrong hands? All my work, for naught! Who had leaked the information? Was it her? Or possibly one of the Brazilians? “Now the damned Department of Homeland Security will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve!” was the last thing that went through my mind before I was surrounded. (Enriched Geranium)

Totally surrounded, I might add, by secret service agents. A childish gray-haired man stepped between them. He walked as if he were hiding an eight ball in his trousers. Stepping nearer I saw an actual eight ball, (pool table, not drugs) fall out his pant leg. Bruised, a little bloody and a lot confused, I still thought "some guys just can't deal with their shortcomings".

"Where's Pickles?" short and arrogant demanded of me.

"Pickles?" First Brazilians, now pickles, Camel cigarettes and an electrolux? Sweet jesus on a popsicle stick help me make sense of this.

"I know yer shaggin' Laura. She said you're into the brazillians . I'd have ta be preznit for another eight years before I had brazillians and brazillians of dollars". He looked sad. "I bet she tried her erotic applesauce trick on you." Eeugh. She did try the erotic applesauce trick on me. But I didn't know I was whispering sweet nothings into the ear of the First Lady. In the snowdrift outside the kitchen window he saw the Camel butts. "Camels! Ha! I knew she switched from Pall Malls for a reason. It's you. Buddy, I have half a mind to punish you in ways you will never forget. (Jess Wundrun)

****
I know that Tengrain is anti-meme. Maybe you'll relent once? Also, Commander Other who is also anti-meme but gave in but once. How 'bout it Pygalgia? And Delia from Impeachment and Other Dreams, would you be so kind?

Have a little faith in me.

I love to read people's Friday Random ten posts to see inside the minds of fellow bloggers through their music choices. Now there's a meme going around that sheds further light on peoples music tastes by asking 22 questions to be answered by whatever "shuffle" on an iPod says.

Franiam tagged me with this meme.

I must say though, that I don't have much music on my iPod because it is mostly filled up with books. A cupla books will eat a gig fairly quickly. This is the reason I never post the random tens. But I tried this just for fun, and here is what I came up with:

The rules:

1. Put your music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT(this is in capital letters, so it is very serious.

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY? Now I know how Morrissey felt - Mika

2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY? - Gone Today, Ollabelle

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL? - All American Courage, Alan Jackson*

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? - Grace Kelly, Mika

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE? You are my sunshine, Carly Simon

6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? Catch the wind - Donovan

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? Color me America, Dolly Parton*

8. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS? The Ballad of the Green Berets, SSgt Barry Sadler*

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN? Flathead, the Fratellis

10. WHAT IS 2+2? Quiet Evening, Carly Simon

11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? Holloway Road, Ollabelle

12. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Sight of my Homeland, Tim Janis*

13. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? I will go sailing no more, Randy Newman

14. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? The Rain, K-OS

15. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Save Room, Jon Legend

16. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? The Ragged Old Flag, Johnny Cash*

17. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? Beautiful Disaster, Jon McLaughlin

18. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? Little Wonders, Rob Thomas

19. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST? Jerk it out, Caesars

20. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET? I think it's going to rain, Bette Midler

21. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? Born Losers, Matthew Good

22. WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS? Have a little faith in me, John Hiatt

*All the entries marked with an asterisk are there because I made a playlist for a fourth of July picnic with patriotic songs. But doesn't everybody have "The Ballad of the Green Berets" on their iPod?

This ponzey scheme ends with me. Surely four angels and six snowflake babies will die if I don't continue the chain, but there it is.

Enjoy John Hiatt.

Thanks, FranIam! And BAC! Yikes!!!

Last week Fran gave me the Partisan Pissant Provocateur Award. Thank goodness there wasn't too much drinking at the awards banquet or we would have all been spitting on each other just trying to get the name of the award out.

This is a meme award and thusly, I am supposed to name five other bloggers who I think are Partisan Pissant Provocateurs like the newly inducted me. I am not going to do that for two reasons: 1) I only read the blogs of Partisan Pissant Provocateurs. If I have ever left a message at your place, you are one and you know it. And I love you and I thank you for being in cyber land and not letting me think I am the only one who is totally hacked off by the events of the day. And B) well there's no b.

Thanks Fran. But thank you too, Mr. George "W is for Wrecks" Bush! I mean, sure we were partisans in the eighties and nineties. But your particular brand of diviseness has driven Americans to frothy levels of foaming at the mouth hate for one another that I am only too happy to participate in! Without you, people might have continued to consider conservatives as old guys in yellow cardigans who smelled like aftershave and loved the Wall Street Journal. Really rich old farts who would only spare a silver dollar for your birthday. Guys who lived in Colonial style homes with eagle plaques above the door. Oh, those halcyon days. No, now we know our partisan enemy is NOT those conservatives. Those conservatives we'd like to give a little hug to. Barry Goldwater, even though you are dead, people are practically remembering you as a liberal! Here are the conservatives that have taken over rending the fabric of our nation into two partisan shammycloths.


UPDATE: BAC at Yikes gave me one too. Thanks times two!

Dr. Monkey, why didn't you just call?

From WKOW-TV in Madison, Wisconsin:


"Missing Monkey Captured in Madison

Wednesday afternoon, a Madison resident, city animal control officials and Madison police captured a capuchin monkey on the loose in downtown Madison since early Wednesday morning.

Police say the monkey bit a 20 year old bystander outside State Street Brats overnight.

Authorities spent the day searching the State Street area for the monkey, who was wearing a diaper.

Broom Street hardware store employee Jason Shaw tells 27 News he helped corner the monkey and keep it calm so it could be captured.

Madison Animal Control officials said the monkey, named SuriDr. von Monkerstein (that's shteeeen), will be quarantined and a decision on its future will be made in about ten days. Authorities said the monkey was also quarantined recently after a previous biting incident.

The monkey's owner told 27 News Suri serves as a service animal for her. Monkeys have been known to be used as service animals to provide companionship, and in some cases, perform tasks for people with severe disabilities. But Madison prohibits some exotic animals as pets, such as monkeys and alligators."


Maybe Dr. von Monkerstein was in town to personally hand me my Thinking Blogger Award. I noticed that he gave me this a few days ago. Since then I have been savoring it like a candy store butterscotch. Holding it on the roof of my mouth and sucking on it every now and then just to savor it. (How's that for search optimized copy?)


All I can say is that I am really touched to have been given this award. I'd like to thank my mother, but I can't because this little blog is a secret. So I'll just thank the good Dr.

I am supposed to tag five other bloggers who make me think. Without fail, everyday Johnny Yen makes me think. So I tag you, Johnny.

I am tagging the geographically closest blogger to me, Suzy who not only makes me think on her blog but who will hopefully meet up with me for book swappin'.

And I tag Fran. She is not just a thinking blogger, but a thoughtful blogger. She has amazing powers of both blogging and telepathic drunkeness. Amazing.

Tengrain. Regards. Tengrain's blog is like potato chips on the web. With dip. Fortunately he is prolific so you never have to jones for more.

And Pygalgia. He says he's a hippie gone mean but I doubt it. He posted his picture. If that's a mean guy I'm a neo-con. Always insightful.

I am sure everyone of these bloggers has already received this award. If so, please just accept my thanks for all the thinkable thinky thoughts you plant in my craw every day.

How do I answer these questions?

Dr. Monkey von Monkerstein (it's shteeen) has tagged me with a five question meme. Ever happy to talk about myself, I celebrate the popping of my meme cherry by answering these questions:

1. Does this look infected to you?

No. I think it is just a fungus.


2. What was the name of your kindergarten or first grade teacher?

My kindergarten teacher was Mrs. Herman and my first grade teacher was Miss. Semlie. (I think I'm spelling Semlie wrong). Mrs Herman was the greatest kindergarten teacher that ever lived! She let me and David G. go to first grade every day for reading class and when we came back to kindergarten she would have us sit on her lap and read the books we were learning in first grade to her. She was a big lady and her lap could hold at least four kindergartners. I don't know why she picked me to move up in reading, but I am sure glad she did. It started a love affair with reading that means that for the rest of my life I will never be bored. My 'to read' stack never ever gets shorter. My first grade teacher was also fantastic. It was 1971 and we were her first class she ever taught. She wasn't a hippy, but she was so groovy. She looked like Brenda Morgenstern (aka Marge Simpson) but was much better dressed. At the end of the school year she got married and moved away.

3. Have you ever broken a bone in your body?

Not really. I fractured my nose on my brother's forehead once. He is 14 months older than me and we were fairly evenly matched as little kids. I had pinned him down with my knees on his arms and was doing the chest poke 'say uncle....pokepokepoke......say uncle......pokepokepoke' when he tried to lurch up and banged his forehead on my nose. We were at my parents' friend's house and she was a nurse who checked me out and thought I was okay. Later a doctor confirmed a hairline fracture. No big. I can't remember if my brother got in trouble. Probably a little, but me? Nope.

4. What's up with the humidity lately?

It's not the heat it's the stupidity. We went for a full month with no measurable rain and it was still humid. When I moved to Virginia from Wisconsin, many people wanted to brag on their humidity in VA. "Oh, just wait until summer" they'd proudly say, "the humidity is unbearable". Ladies of Virginia: yes, you have humidity, but so do we. So do we. Here is a chart of the humidity in Madison. In the summer we are at the top. We are so competetive that way.

5. What kind of alcoholic beverage would you buy me if we went out for a drink?

Glad you asked! I was a bartender for 10 years at a bar where every drink order was placed using the ingredients in the drink. To whit: Brandy Seven, Gin and Tonic, Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. We didn't have no stinkin' blender. Once in a while we'd have to make whatever shot was trendy that season: blowjobs, sex on the beach, whatevah. But that was rare and those weren't regulars.

So for you, a Vodka Pres with a dash of Rose's lime juice and a wedge of lime.

Wait, ho! What's a pres? Pres is short for Presbyterian. I was told that presbyterian is half way between catholic and baptist, so a presbyterian drink is half and half. In most parts of the country this means making a cocktail with the booze and equal parts ginger ale and soda water. Here in 'Sconny we do equal parts seven up and soda water. For you, I'd make it diet soda. And it would be vodka because that seems to be the alcohol of choice for the people with health issues (and little old ladies who don't think it smells on their breath. Ladies, you ain't fooling no one.) The lime stuff just makes it tasty!

You can buy me a margarita on the rocks, no salt. Cheers.

I am going to tag Fran, Johnny Yen, Suzy, Yoga Korunta and Chris in Seattle with these five questions:

1. Wednesday, Nov. 5, 2008. Our side won! How do you celebrate?
2. Are you on a boat or are you a land lubber or do you soar?
3. What was the last mistake you wished you could cover up?
4. Are your omelettes fluffy?
5. When was the last time your paradigm shifted?

Some of you are on vacation. I don't think there's a time limit. You can get at it when you get back. Love, Jess.