Posts in category Stolen from The Gal

The Queen’s Meme #2

July 21, 2009 Written by Lisa

1. You are a guest on the space shuttle. You just arrived on the moon and realize you forgot something back home that you can’t live without. What is it and how do you convince them to go back and fetch it?

First off, no one would ask me to be a guest on a space shuttle. I’m probably not someone who does well in cramped quarters with other people around and no way to escape. That said, I would want my Ipod. Because we must have tunes, internets and arm porn. And that way, I’d have all three at my fingertips. And I’d get it by bribing one of the astronauts with my feminine wiles to go back and get it for me. :-)

2. Pretend you are a teacher in a rough public school for one day. You have been assigned to teach Manners 101. You have the “challenging bad butt kids” class. They are jumping up and down, cursing, and throwing things at you. What is the first thing you would write on the board?

Goodness. What. Would. I. Write? Is “Shut the fuck up and sit down now!” a display of poor manners? And if so, can I say I was using it as an example of said poor manners?

3. Someone in your family or a friend has started a blog. They think it is anonymous but you have figured it out. They are saying derogatory things about you. Do you tell them or do you read it for awhile? How would you handle it?

What? Is my “Cousin O’Not-so-much-love” writing about me again? LOL Dag. Honestly, I wouldn’t say a word nor would I read it. If that’s how she gets her ya-ya’s out, have at it. It’s a big internet. Knock yourself out. (It would be in all caps, though. I can tell you that much. She likes to yell!)

4. If you had one dollar left in your pocket, what would you spend it on?

What’s the going rate for arm porn? Oh. Never mind. Coffee, then.

5. President Obama and the First Lady are coming over for dinner. What do you serve?

Five Guys for everyone! Burgers and fries. MMMM!

6. You walk in on your lover. He is trying on your clothes. What do you do?

Assuming my lovah is Eddie Izzard, I don’t blink an eye! He has a much better wardrobe than I ever will. Mayhaps I can borrow some stuff from him? I won’t need the fake boobies, though. I have my own (non-fake) ones, thankyouverymuch.

7. Every astronaut must have shots! Choose your vaccination: You only get one and you can’t enjoy any of the attributes of the other choices. You choose either: (1) The fountain of eternal youth and sexual vigor but only for 10 years (2) perfect health for a lifetime (3) eternal mind-numbing nirvana and peace of mind (4) unlimited hedonism for one year with no negative consequences.

I am gonna have to go with choice number 2, as boring as that is. Yes, I’ll get old and I won’t have any sexual vigor (damn the bad luck!), I won’t have peace ‘o mind (highly overrated, if you ask me) and that unlimited hedonism gets old after a while (been there, done that, you know). So, gimme a shot of perfect health right here in my arm!

General Blatherings

Queen's Meme

By Royal Decree Indeed!

July 14, 2009 Written by Lisa

Done by royal decree and of course, stolen from you-know-who.

1. You are in court. You are in deep doo-doo. What did you do? (‘Cause if you want, I might could talk to the judge and get your sentence reduced to Bloggingham dungeon time.)

Hmmm, I suspect it might have something to do with touching someone *coughDavidCookcough* inappropriately in public. Surely the judge would take pity on me, a lowly cougar-type who doesn’t get out much and when finally seeing her idol in the flesh was compelled to just touch the hem (or so) of his garment.

2. Your blog just became a best-selling book . What is the title of your book?
“How I touched David Cook and wasn’t thrown in jail?” Not catchy enough? How about “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” but in French so I look all cool and shit. (Plus de choses changent, plus qu’ils restent la mÃªme chose.)

3. It is midnight. The phone rings. It is Michael Jackson calling from the Great Beyond. What would you like to ask him?
Well, first, I don’t know if you know this but I can communicate with those on the other side sans telephone so if MJ wants to have a chat, he knows how to reach me. That said, I’ll play along. Let’s see … umm, I’d ask him why he wore that one frickin’ glove. Also, I’d tell him that Prince was, by far, the better dancer. What? What’s he gonna do? Send a lightning bolt to strike me dead? Please. That so doesn’t happen (much).

4. You are having your future told. The fortune teller looks in the crystal ball, screams and leaves the room in fright. What did they see?
Probably me in my underpanties eating cheese crackers or something hideous like that. Or perhaps a vision of Michael Jackson getting ready to smite me for some off handed comment I made about his dancing skills. Quite possibly it involved me singing because I don’t do that well.

5. You’re blogging along minding your own blusiness (that’s blog + oh…you know) when Google unexpectedly puts a Objectionable Content Warning on your blog. Your own mother is afraid to enter! What, pray tell, did you do to warrant it? How did this happen? Do you think you deserve it? Just how objectionable are you? Do tell.
I don’t think you want me to go there. I can think of about fifty things off the top of my head that would warrant the Objectionable Content label and there’s probably one person on this earth who knows them and even if you offered them chocolate peanut butter ice cream, they wouldn’t tell. (I don’t think. Don’t offer them too much of that ice cream because I’m not sure of their limits on that. Just saying.)

6. You suddenly become God Of The Universe. What would your first Commandment be?
It’s a selfish one, alas. I would want to be tall, thin and wicked smart. Then, of course, peace on earth, goodwill toward men, blah blah fucking blah.

7. And finally, what secret would you like to tell the Queen?
Oh Queen, I have more secrets than you can imagine but if I had to choose one, I’d say this: I really like sleeping alone in a king size bed, just me and my cat Sophia. (So, I’m not really alone, but still.) I’d maybe sacrifice that for David Cook if he doesn’t snore and if he would snuggle with me as well as Sophia does. Would he awaken me at 3am purring? (That’s a scary picture. Men don’t (or shouldn’t) purr.) Still, that’s my secret. Don’t tell anyone, okay?