I’m so ancient that some of my oldest friends were introduced to me by Pterodactyls. Like the Dot.Com meltdowns, this blogosphere thing is relatively new to most of us. There are a couple, like AFrankAngle, and Jim Wheeler, who have been at it for 4 and 5 years. Most of the rest of us have only been polluting the interwebz for a couple of years, so it’s hard to have an old blog-friend.
As some of the brighter among you may have guessed, I have received yet another well-earned blog award. One of my oldest followers gifted me with a Liebster. This woman is determined. She signed up to ride on my Tilt-A-Whirl shortly after I fell off the WordPress turnip wagon. Then, through no fault of her own, she had to go into the Witness Protection Program.
She came roaring back, with a Groucho Marx disguise, a phoney gravatar, and the persona of, Pucker Up Buttercup, which she used to follow me again. She couldn’t fool me though. Her writing is too crisp, clear and informative, even when she is reporting from the other side of the battle of the sexes. I bent over to pick up a nickel, (I’m not saying she threw it there.) and felt something slipping into my back pants pocket. I was hoping that I was being molested, but the Liebster award is a lovely consolation prize.
As usual, there’s a bunch of silly rules, most, better observed by omission than commission. There’s not even a rule that you must download and display a copy of the award on your acceptance post, but my ego needed to be shimmed up, so I grabbed one and slipped it in at the top. I’m supposed to link back to my donor, to give you a chance to visit her site. Two years of blogging, and I’ve finally figured out how to do that all by myself. Next week the wife says she’ll teach me to open my own beer.
You must answer the ten Liebster questions put to you by your nominator. I’ll get around to that, right after I list, and then ignore, the rest of the rules. You are supposed to pick ten worthy recipients with fewer than 200 followers. I’m depressed that I qualified. You gals keep telling us, Size Matters.
I’m supposed to come up with ten new questions for my 10 nominees. I can’t come up with ten lucid answers to the questions I’ve been asked! Where am I gonna come up with ten new questions?? Wait! That’s one – nine more??! Nah!! So, I can’t think of any questions, and the terms of the day-parole pass don’t allow me on the internet long enough to find ten more gullible victims worthy recipients. Ergo, I have no-one to notify of my nefarious plans. Quickly, on to the Q & A.
Questions for my nominees:
1. What’s the most important quality you look for in a friend?
A strong stomach, and the blind ability to overlook my failures and shortcomings. My blog-friends see me like a reject Christmas tree, with the poor side turned towards the wall, and only the good part showing.
2. What would your superhero name be?
Corporal Mediocre, because I’m not powerful enough to be a Captain. Like Radar, in M.A.S.H., while everyone was oohing and aahing over the guy leaping tall buildings, I’d clean up the mess, and disappear before anyone knew I’d been there.
3. Have you ever broken someone’s heart? If so, whose?
Not knowingly, or intentionally. I did break a girl’s nose one time, but she shouldn’t have been standing so close to the door when she knew I was coming to pick her up.
4. Is the pursuit or the capture better? Why?
Yes, and no….because, it depends on the target. Sometimes it’s the thrill of the hunt, but, like a dog chasing a car, even if he caught it, he couldn’t drive it. Other times, the goal is so valuable and worth-while, that the rigors of the chase are ignored in the pursuit of the fixated goal. Sadly, sometimes we obtain exactly what we need and want, only to find that it isn’t. Be careful what you wish for.
5. What do you most wish you could do over?
With a view to “improving or changing” my current life? Be born rich, instead of so damned handsome! Actually, at my age, I’d like to do the whole damned thing over again. I’d even put up with the dorky, slightly bullied childhood, for the chance to meet and get to know more people. I can think of no specific life occurrence which was bad enough to need doing over. Even if I could, the butterfly effect might ensure that the changed result would be even worse. Let sleeping dogs lie, just don’t trip over them.
6. Is it ever okay to put raisins in cookies? Why or why not?
Better to ask if it’s necessary to put cookie dough around these plump, juicy, tasty little nuggets. No raisins in Oreos or Lemon Crisps, obviously, but Cowboy cookies, or brown sugar cookies, or oatmeal and raisin cookies (which, properly, should be raisin, and a bit of oatmeal, cookies) – Oh Yeah! Some wino somewhere is sayin’, “I wish I had a couple of raisin cookies instead.”
7. What’s the last compliment you were given?
I’m not sure if it was, “For a fat old fart, you don’t sweat much.” or, “You know, you’re not really as dumb as you look.” At my age, I get complimented just for getting out of bed in the morning – well, afternoon usually. Though five years younger than me, in the past couple of years, the wife’s physical deterioration has proceeded apace, while I, even pushing 70, remain a spry old guy. As a way of thanking me for taking care of her, and just doing what needs to be done, the wife often compliments me.
8. How important is the first kiss?
Oh so important! It sets a tone. Was it worth the wait? Does it promise more, and even better to come? Will the medication control the herpes?
9. What’s the best name for a turtle, and why?
Bob – because – Bob! What do you call a dog with no legs? It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to come when you call him.
10. What do you wish people knew about you?
I’m as transparent as Swarovski crystal, and the Mississippi may have a bigger mouth. I began this blog two years ago to get to know other bloggers, and for them to get to know me. Any regular reader knows pretty much everything about me except my shoe size – just large enough to often insert in my mouth. There was that one, “This has never happened to me before.” episode, but that’s not something I want people to know about.
That’s it folks. Remember to wash your hands after reading the post, and please return soon, for another exciting episode of The Life and Times of Archon.
Archon's Den 