While I am definitely a blogger, I’m not really un aficion.
There are all sorts of things that bloggers have in common, but other than a shared love of adult beverages and an aversion to long pants, I was unaware of them. Until now.
Apparently, there is a phenomenon called tagging. Now, last I knew of the word, it meant you had to wear a baseball cap cattywompus, have an extremely dexterous hand with the spray paint and know how to pop and lock.
Yo. Boy do I feel old.
It took my cunning linguist friend, Heathero to set me straight. And, throw me in the deep end. As pay back, I’m not going to explain the concept (a childish retort which will ultimately accomplish NOTHING, since I’m sure every other fucking person on the planet already knows what this is). If you are one of the few who don’t, ask HOK. Her blog address is at the end of this post.
So here’s what I’m supposed to do, apparently:
1. Grab the nearest book with at least 123 pages.
2. Go to page 123.
3. Type in the following three sentences.
4. Tag some number of people.
Now, just as I do with those chain letter emails, I’ll play along. But I will not propagate. I know Bill Gates is not going to give me a computer. And I generate plenty of bad luck on my own, so bring it. But I like making my friends happy and I secretly like that I got tagged.
So here we go.
I, of course, reached for Rupert Everett’s first novel, “Hello Darling, Are You Working?”
Flipping to page 123, I was greeted by the following passage:
“The Crazy Gang were thrilled to hear about the mini-series and that is was being shot in Tangiers to boot. They promptly invited Dawnford to Ashby de la Zouche’s party that weekend. Needless to say Dawnford, who would go anywhere there was a free toilet roll and a few actors, accepted with alacrity and, before Rhys could stop him, said he would extend the invitation to the entire cast which would include such showbiz bastions as Sir Maurice Goodbuns, the Duke of Darling-Darling, Little Beige Riding Hood and Harry Bellows-Forth.”
Ah, florid-a in the winter.
Check out HOKs blog, “The Days Are Just Packed” at hokgardner.blogspot.com
If you’re a beautiful super-intelligent, working uber Mom with three adorable children and a hottie former Olympic caliber diver for a husband, you’ll totally relate. : )
If not, you’ll probably still get a kick out of it. I do.
And just for fun, I’m tagging YOU, gentle reader. Post in comments.
1 comment:
Aw shucks, I'm blushing. But who is this hottie I'm supposedly married to?
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