Some people are meme LOVERS. You can tell who these people are. They never send you an email asking how that bloody dangling body part of yours is healing. They don’t want to know how widowhood is treating you. They don’t care how many bunny rabbits you had to pull out of someone’s tailpipe at the office.
No. They just want to talk about themselves: “I went to these 3 schools and I like these 3 colors and I want to have sex with these 3 celebrities.” And they want to tell you this about once a week. And they want you to PASS IT ON to TEN OF YOUR FRIENDS, and you have to answer all these damn questions and golly won’t that be fun?
I need you to turn up the volume when I say NO! because I don’t think you heard me the first time.
I foolishly assumed that the blogosphere would take me away from all that. But like any new technology, people figured out how to hack that system too and there are memes everywhere around here! Crawling up your scrollbars and getting inside your widgets!
What I’m trying to say is that if I had a blog post for every meme I got… If I wanted to be a meme blog, I’d have called myself Screaming Memes in Panties (which would undoubtedly elevate the perv readership an order of magnitude thanks to Google).
Why am I taking this out on you today? I got a meme a few weeks ago and I’ve been pulling my guilty hair out while NOT following its directions. Because the LAST thing I’m going to do is get viral. You wouldn’t believe how demanding this thing is. Why it’s……here I’ll show you:
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.
First of all it’s very presumptuous for Fiery Heart Designs to assume I would have a book nearby. Now granted, I do just happen to have Dirty Job by Christopher Moore right here, and they expect me to open it, like this, to page 123. Oh like I have time to count 1,2,3,4,5, … OK to the 5th sentence and post the next three sentences. See? This is what I mean. Telling me to take the time out of my precious ever-living day to post three lousy sentences. Like you care. Do you care? Here, I’ll show you how silly this is. Would you waste your time writing down these three sentences?
“Above? Fun? I know, instead of a basket, you can weave a hat from his entrails.”
Boring, right?
And not that I would ever EVER, mind you, subject any of my friends to this agony, but if I were, say staring down the business end of an AK-47, then I might be willing to part with a few names like…
(This is like Spin the Bottle, isn’t it? You’re squinting as you read this now, hoping it isn’t you.)
(Oh, this is killing you now. I could just take a commercial break right here and make you suffer.)
(But I won’t)
It was a difficult decision. You were all very good, particularly in the Chocolate Turkey Throttle Down Finals, but I’m afraid we could only choose five of you. Just know that, you’re all winners at Nanny Goats In Panties.
And if you’re upset because the bottle didn’t point to you, consider yourself added to the list. Or maybe one of the above will pay YOU to trade with THEM.
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Hey, thanks heaps for boosting my ratings over at Humor-Blogs.com and the Sacramento Top 25. You guys rock, man! Mooch Ass Grassy Ass!
