A “6 Things” Meme
Quick post today. I was tagged by (http://mom-101.blogspot.com/) Mom 101 to do this 6 things meme. I urge you to visit her site if you haven’t already. She’s funny and smart and darned good readin’.
Right then. 6 Surprising Things You May Not Know About Me:
1. My grandpa was a spy.
2. My husband has seen my bladder in vivo, truly an intimate moment between husband and wife, especially as I have never even see it, myself. I was having a C-section at the time.
3.This year, my husband will be exactly twice my age and the same age as Paul McCartney. We met when I was 21 and came to America on a work-exchange visa. That is the child-bride part of problem-child-bride. I was visiting with the express purpose of plighting my troth to an older man and he, as luck would have it, was in the market for an Outer Hebridonian, undiagnosed yet, bipolar Cell Biology student.
We were an unusual couple who entered a suicide pact with each other when I was 25. However only 50% of us went through with it because, after I’d dispatched my new older husband, I realized I had an omnibus edition of Eastenders that I’d forgotten to watch, and then, you know, the moment had passed and everything. I spent a short time in jail following the murder, butused my time wisely to improve my crochet skills. I had secretly fashioned a crochet-hook from a nail-file some well-wisher on The Outside had mistakenly dropped in a cake, she’d baked for me.
While in jail I also earned a PhD. in Theoretical Housewiffery. (My particular area of expertise is in polishing (theoretical and applied), and my thesis on how to coax a gleam from even the tiredest of kitchen sink fittings is considered the standard in its field. I’m a regular speaker at the Southern Californian House-Pride Convention. My own sparkling faucets are an especial point of pride (blush).
Anyway, life went on, but I missed my husband so I had him disinterred and stuffed and we bring him out for birthdays and celebrations. On cold nights, when I’m lonely, I take him in from the garden, where he doubles as an effective scarecrow, and cuddle with him by the fire, remembering the good old days. If company comes over and we’re short on chairs he also doubles as a very comfortable soft-furnishing and any visiting children will play trampolining on him with my girls thus giving their parents a chance to snort cocaine off the cat’s back with me.
Does that last, put y’all off me now? It shouldn’t. I like children, animals and every film I’ve ever seen starring Julie Andrews. What’s not to like? I’m a well-mixed SoCal housewife-with-a-heart and a touch of nutmeg to season. Whisk me up with some egg whites, bake in a pre-heated oven and I’ll rise to the occasion like some delightful souffle. Serve immediately though, with mixed greens, or I might collapse and be less Saturday-night souffle than Wednesday-night ommelette. What in hell do I mean by any of that? I haven’t got a clue. Your guess is as good as mine.
So then, my husband is twice my age. Odd? Perhaps, but just the way it happened. I think that now I have revealed a bit too much that might be surprising about Pcb. You may be shocked and not want to come back any more. Was it the murder bit? Or the cocaine on the cat thing? It was, wasn’t it? It was the cat thing. I knew you’d think that was wierd. I dunno, people can be so judgemental! The rest of my Surprising Things will consequently be thoroughly mundane because I can’t take the pointing and staring in Blogland any more. It’s too much, really it is.
4. I would rather set my own hair on fire than listen to an evening of jazz scatting.
5. I would rather listen to an evening of jazz scatting than eat marzipan in any of its sickening forms.
6. I would rather eat marzipan than do another meme. No, I don’t mean that. Marzipan is the most God-awful confection since the Romans stopped eating candied otter’s noses (who can spot the Python reference in the last sentence? Hint: it rhymes with brandy- spotter’s roses and there is a virtual pink drink a la fmc (http://fatmammycat.blogspot.com/), for the first to nose it out. Next week there’ll be a tougher question on the reproductive rights of South Dakota’s female otters, since the passage of a recent law:
(http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/16/us/16dakota.html?ex=1145419200&en=3f6660ea3165001c&ei=5087%0A).
I know my links are rubbish and messy, Vegas Joe, but don’t worry, everything will be better soon ‘cos Gordon (http://www.gordonmclean.co.uk/) is going to go in to perform blogical surgery and blog-lift me to beauty.
*
I’m going to Yorkshire this weekend! To celebrate the nuptials of an old friend and, with luck, for a short time, to remember what it was like to not be responsible for looking after anyone else but me. I love being wed and having bred and there are no dearer people to me than my wee girls, but I hardly ever get to see my British friends and I’m really looking forward to this weekend. Should be a good one. Hooray! I leave on Wednesday night so this will probably be my last post ’til next week.
Toodle-pip, folks.
PS. I don’t really want to tag anyone with a meme but, if anyone wants to take the baton, please, go right ahead. It was kinda fun to do in the end, and makes for a nice easy post.
April 18th, 2006 at 1:52 am
No, I’m not put off in the slightest. I have killed too many times, the floors are damp with the blood from my soules as I steppe. But please tell, what is Oleo?
April 18th, 2006 at 2:54 am
Why does this thing keep forgetting me? Well, no remember me button, so I guess it can.
Off to Yorkshire? Toodle-pip!
April 18th, 2006 at 3:14 am
Speaking of good readin’…your meme pain is our gain. By the way, I didn’t officially tag you. I only said that if I WERE to tag someone it would be you. So don’t be blaming me for all your abundant creativity, Missie.
Hope to hear more about the grandpa! Mine was a tile salesman. Or, maybe that’s just what he told us.
April 18th, 2006 at 3:19 am
Jagd, thanks for stopping by! Oleo is oil or something oily. You can spread it on toast though, a fact I learnt from a crossword puzzle. I’m sorry if this sounds ignorant, buit it sounds that way because I am, in fact, ignorant: how do you pronounce your name? At the moment I’m working with “Jaggy D” and I know that’s not right.
Joe, I’m sorry. I’ll look into it, but really I don’t know why it’s not remembering. Wordpress is a fickle pony to ride turns out. Or I’m just not a very good horsewoman. It’s an open source tool and usually used by people a lot more computer-literate than me, but I didn’t know that before getting into it. A remember me button is a good idea, but at the moment all comments, whose authors have been moderated by me on their first comment, (you have) should appear right away. It’s a pain to have to type out your name and email etc. again, I know, but thank-you for taking the time to do it. I’ll see what I can do and if I can’t fix it I’ll ask my friend Gordon about it. He uses Wordpress and knows all about it. Toodle-pip backatcha! I’m really excited about this weekend!
April 18th, 2006 at 3:27 am
Hey Mom 101, I know your tagging was an unofficial tagging, but I’ve got to ham the thing up for blogging street-cred don’t I? I will now reveal secretly to you and to you only (dinna go telling anyone!) that I really don’t mind doing memes in the least. It’s an easy post, the structure’s all taken care of, (not that I spend much time sweating structure) and it kind of takes care of itself. It was sorta fun. Ta!
April 18th, 2006 at 5:27 am
Now THAT is what I call a number 3.
…. I find myself curious about your grandfather.
April 18th, 2006 at 5:28 am
(who was, I think, number 1, even though I took pains to compliment your number 3.)
April 18th, 2006 at 6:52 am
Well, you’ve explained the “child” but not the “problem”. Mary Poppins was a fine example of humanity and I hope you model yourself on her. The magic comes with practice, keep working on it.
April 18th, 2006 at 7:41 am
In german Jagd (pron: Yakht) means hunt, while Kunst (pron: Koonst) means art. I hate germans, and I happen to live with one, but I tolerate her because she’s on a highschool exchange program and I’m a sucker for orphans. However I appreciate all other aspects of germany, esp their artistic aesthetic, and the simplistic bluntness of their language.
It was my best friend and wrestling teacher Mikey 2badd who gave me the name ‘Jagged’ and it kind of evolved from there. But around the homestead we just call me ‘Jagged Cunst.’
Sorry for such a long answer to such a short question, but I just dropped a whole lot of hallucinogenic pills…
April 18th, 2006 at 8:28 am
Mr. Tinspector, you should see my number 7.
My grandpa was a British spy who worked in the Middle East during and a wee bit after WWII. I inherited his camel whip, and a copy of his unfinished spy book called “The Blood-Brothers of Balbeck”. He once gave a man he was detaining (arresting? taking away? I don’t know) a few hours with his wife while he waited at the door. He didn’t talk much about it, but he was fluent in Arabic and when he was old and got Alzheimer’s, two men from MI6 came to our door, (in the Hebrides!) and asked my granny a lot of questions about him and what sorts of things he talked about since he’d become ill. They spent about half an hour with him on his own and then left and we never saw them again. My granny hadn’t called them and we never found out how they knew about his Alzheimer’s. It was spooky, but exciting for me as a wee girl. He was a tall, thin, gentle, patient and popular man who made soldier battalions with his liquorice allsorts, copied everything in triplicate and polished all our shoes daily. (We lived in a house behind my granny and grandpa’s) When he died both the town’s bigwigs and the town’s drooths came to his funeral. To me, growing up, he was always a kind of other-worldly hero from the black and white days when men wore hats. He owned the newspaper in Stornoway and often smelled of ink. I realise I probably have a wee girl’s idealised view, but I still miss him.
Blimey, that went on a bit! But you did ask! And going on a bit is always a risk with me.
Mr. Nanas, The problem bit is just the bipolar thing and it fitted with child: people speak of so-and-so being a “problem-child”; and child fitted with bride which Dave, my expired husband always introduce(s/d) me as etc.
I hold fast and true to the principle of “A Spoonful of Sugar” but not “A Spoonful of High Fructose Corn Syrup and Day-Glo Food Colouring”. I do thoroughly admired Poppins’s firm but fair approach, but if a sweep were ever to chim-chim-cheroo around my children, I’d have the law on him!
April 18th, 2006 at 8:31 am
Sam, I don’t see how your husband can be twice as old as you, as the ageing process generally stops after death and stuffing.
Ah love Yorkshire, me! Where are you going in that fine county? My familiarity is with the North, around Scarborough.
April 18th, 2006 at 8:46 am
Aha Mr. Eater you have undone me. The flaw in my narrative is now glaring at me, in a starey way. The real truth, of course, is that I had him cryogenically preserved and I revivify him each time we have thunderstorm by putting him outside with a coat-hanger cum arial on his head, But it never lasts. He’s usually dropped off again by tea-time. Now I’m working on a sort of solar-powered revivifier. Got to take advantage of that S. Californian sunshine.
Jagd, that whole “Let’s invade Poland”, thing was simplistically blunt too, but the terms “liebensraum” and “the final solution” were less straightforward and more sinisterly involved, I think. And never afear you head about long comments at pcb. I’ve been known to comment expansively myself ON MY OWN BLOG (see above and above and above)
April 18th, 2006 at 9:01 am
You type quick!
Six degrees of separation.
Cell Biology.
I had a hamster called Honey that came from the Institute of Virology at the bottom of Church Street. Had a friend who drank in the Exchequer across the road, but being Heilan, I?m guessing it was the Park Bar for you.
April 18th, 2006 at 9:22 am
Doc M! i’ve just been at your’s! I thought I’d see you crossing on the other side of the etherway, but then I thought, “Nah, it’s just Brian Blessed”
The Park Bar, certainly, if we got that far. Oftentimes, we’d go to the quiz machine in Curlers by the tube station, although it’s posh-like now, and plan on staying for just the one and never make it to the Park Bar. I’m going to another wedding in July at the old church at the top of Byres’ Road that’s now a venue. It’s all change in the West End eh? Gone posh. I remember when it was crisp packets and pre-used fish suppers for as far as the eye could see …
Footie, my marrying friend lives in Leeds which I’ve never visited before, but the wedding is in Whitby. I’ve visited Scarborough once before and liked it. That whole part of the country is beautiful. I worked on a farm in Littlebeck near Whitby for a summer when I was 15 and my uncle lives in York where we holidayed quite a lot. We used to do the Great Yorkshire Show and pick strawberries and stuff. I have a soft spot too for that part of the country. It’s going to be nice to see it again.
April 18th, 2006 at 4:36 pm
Jagd Cunst: and now I know. Very cool. You should, however, be careful. There are those who will attempt to change the letter order of your second name. You do not wish to become the embodiment of a poorly maintained…um…rosy fingered dawn.
April 18th, 2006 at 4:37 pm
Sam, PCB:I’ve looked, but can divine no seven. Shall you elaborate, or do you leave it to my fetid imagination?
April 18th, 2006 at 4:47 pm
Shall I email you about Yorkshire, or is it a lost cause?
It’s always harder to squeeze stuff into long-distance visits than you think…
P.S. Ta for the lovely comment!
April 18th, 2006 at 6:24 pm
Have fun and be safe.
April 18th, 2006 at 10:27 pm
SafeT: When I was attacked on that thread the other night one of the postings said “If you drop the ’s’ from his last name, it just about sums him up!” Those fools are all artists and they don’t know the meaning of the word! I’m also the most hated person in this tiny city of 1 million people, so it wouldn’t really bother me if a few ‘S’s got dropped now and then. I asked Face to make me a shirt that said ‘100% C**T’ in the style of some kind of sport shirt, but she said that I didn’t need it. People can just tell by looking at me.
Sam: You are wirepeach too, no?
April 19th, 2006 at 7:09 am
Have some pudding for me, darlin’. Haven’t been home for a while. Oh, and a pint of Tetley’s would be nice, too! Safe journey, girl.
April 19th, 2006 at 8:22 am
Damn! I just made the Kunst-letter-order joke over on my site, thinking I was being all original and clever like, and now I see it’s been done before. Apologies, Jagd.
April 19th, 2006 at 10:35 am
Marzipan, I’m against it!
Anyhoo, I am also against memes, so since I am contrary allow me to finhs by wishing you a very wonderful trip and I hope you have a ball.
April 19th, 2006 at 2:21 pm
Marzipan – mmmmm.
Mr Jagd Kunst. I am familiar with your name as my mother-in-law was too a Kunts (that’s how she spelled it) before she married an O Hara. This is the same mother-in-law who is friends with Mike and Kay Hunt. Hmm, I am beginning to wonder if there is more to my mother-in-law’s past than I first thought….
Sam, do you like Liquorice? I only ask as it seems people who like maripan also like things like Liquorice and marmite. I like all these things and have found the best Liquorice tea – Yogi.
My grandad had a limp and for years I thought he’d been wounded on the front line in the war. Turns out he injured it when he came back from his office war-job.
Hey, Sam – by the time you have read this you’ll have had your holiday! Was it Danny and Sharmin’s wedding? Hope they had a good one and that you had a great holiday too. Will get all the news from King Aldonius.
April 19th, 2006 at 10:31 pm
Kay Hunt is a pretty funny name. There was a billboard on the side of a sport store that had a big picture of their discount card. The name on the card was Mike Hunting. I laughed and laughed.
April 20th, 2006 at 3:34 pm
Hmmmmm.
Double HMMMMMMMM
Not sure I’m mad keen on helping out someone who doesn’t appreciate the stickysweet nuttiness of marzipan!!!! Heathen!
Hmmm
(ohh and I’ll be emailing you tonight… first tentative steps towards yer new digs!)
P.S. The linking thing is pretty easy actually – I can talk you through that if you like.
April 22nd, 2006 at 10:10 pm
Ah, it seems that romance is not dead in the problem child bride household. Before you murdered your husband you thoughtfully froze some of his sperm for your later use in fathering the twins. Now he sits, cryogenically preserved and permanently smiling, looking at his dear girls playing at his feet. What a sweet and macabre image!
April 23rd, 2006 at 1:00 am
So I’m innocently blog surfing this rainy evening, awaiting pizza delivery, having just taken an allergy medication, when I happened onto your blog. Perhaps it was the hunger…maybe the drugs, although Tylenol Allergy usually doesn’t pack much of a punch…although it was the “severe congestion” type so perhaps it did play a role in what I’m about to reveal…especially considering it was taken on an empty stomach. Well, not really empty, empty, but certainly not full which has to count for something. Anyway, I happen on to your blog courtesy of Mom 101, who happens to be a favorite of my wife’s which is neither here nor there, and many minutes later realize that I have been totally entertained and quite amused! Thank you for that and if you don’t mind I would like to drop in again. Of course, if you do object I will certainly understand and it is entirely possible that, courtesy said Tylenol taken on only partially full stomach, I could wake up tomorrow and remember none of this…in fact, this may very well be a dream in which case I may not be able to return even if so inclined.
April 24th, 2006 at 5:25 pm
the Tylenol didn’t get him, but the Nyquil did! nevertheless, before he passed out, he (joel. my husband. the guy directly above me) was laughing insanely at, what i thought to be, his pitiful Lakers losing one of their games in the playoffs. poor baby i thought his team’s gonna lose, and i’m in for another month without sex (i’m a selfish bitch that way). so you can imagine my surprise–go ahead, i’ll wait–to discover he was actually reading this blog. your post. your incredibly creative/clever/hilarious post. when he wakes up, which will be, hopefully, sometime tomorrow, i’m going to remind him of his gleeful cries “ahoy! a writer! a funny writer! who writes! and is funny!” to which, i’m sure he’ll reply “what? whoie?“…then i’ll bring him back over so he can relive the insanity. without the added influence of Tylenol and/or Nyquil.
i find marzipan nauseating. who invented it, and how do we kill him/her?
April 25th, 2006 at 10:13 pm
Wave whilst you’re over here.
April 26th, 2006 at 3:19 am
Ok, Sam. Where the fuck are you?
April 28th, 2006 at 7:31 am
Thanks for your comments, peeps. I have never had anywhere close to this many before. Going to Yorkshire is clearly good for a Blogger Without Portfolio. My comment-box runneth over and my ears have finally popped from the plane-ride.
SafeT, fetid imagination is always a good way to go.
Clare, Yorkshire was a blur as I thought it would be. Alas it passed all too quickly and were it not for an ache for the womb-fruits I could have happily stayed on and had time to come and pester you in Manchester. Another time, for sure.
Randall, thanks. The only fly in the ointment was the expense of the ointment. I was alarmed to see how little poundage my dollar yielded and how quickly the tenners seem to fly from my hot little hands in Britain now. My first trip back to Britain from America the exchange rate got me something like 65p a dollar. But financial history is not my forte and I also remember when yoghurts were 9p and Polos (“the mint with the hole” or beloved British sweetie) were 8p. After this trip my pecuniary Polos are considerably more hole and less mint.
Nige, hey-ho. I endeavoured to devour as many puddings as I could just as you urged. Any increase in my thigh-girth can therefore be layed squarely at your feet. I did a passable job on the Tetley’s too. The Tetley’s memory is fading as I fear I like my beverages colder since moving Stateside, but the memory of Eton Mess and bramble pie etc. (and oh! what sweet, sweet etc. there was) lingers still on my tongue and I will describe them lovingly to anyone I can force to listen to them. Kudos to key lime pie but it is no bramble pie and I don’t care a figgy one if that sounds Puddingist. Champion pudding of all time though has to be the magnificent rum baba. I defy anyone to disagree, ‘cos not only does I know me onions, I knows me delicious, me darlin’ rum babas too. Dribble.
Jagt and Mr. Eater and Fluffag, regarding Jagt’s name – remember the lesson of Cash’s “A Boy Named Sue”. Only a real man can carry a “difficult” name with equanimity. Let the fools snicker and carry on regardless, my good man, and thank God you didn’t have to beaar the childhood burden of Fluffag’s mother-in-law. For crying out loud, her name was just wrong.
Fluffag. The wedding was indeed Sharmyn and Danny’s. They honeymoon in Croatia as we speak . Liquorice is my favourite sweetie. My mother craved it back when I was a zygote so perhaps that’s it.
Gordon, yes! Links and Wordpress will just not play nicely together for me. As soon as I finish here I will be putting down dust-sheets and telephoning Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen about the TV make-over show rights to PCB’s revamping. I see your design principles as more Graham Wynn than Anna Ryder-Richardson though, which is a good thing.
Emma, macabre yes, sweet, no. We are truly an awful despicably heinous household. We’ve danced naked on the graves of good folk and eaten the neighbour’s dog; it’s not even the weekend yet. We’re revolting.
Joel and Neva, welcome! Thank you for visiting and commenting. Tylenol Allergy and Nyquill are all very well but both lack the je ne sais quois, the clean and satisfying finish of Benadryl. It’s Benadryl all the way for me, man. Pairs equally well with Rice Crispies and Pinot Grigio for a good night in. On the marzipan thing, I’m all for mounting an international hunt for its inventor and poking it up his/her nostrils which a tea-spoon.
Pat! I’m glad it worked! Thanks for stopping by. I’d forgotten how beautiful Yorkshire was, how warm the people are and how robust the Sunday lunches. Heaven had. Is the Fylingdale’s golf ball still there? I looked and peered but saw only moor.
SafeT, why I’m right here on my stool in the kitchen where I usually am at 12:30am. Loved the podcast, bud’!
April 29th, 2006 at 8:59 pm
Well, don’t you dare get up. Hope you have a collastomy bag.
Oh, and thanks! I posted another one last night. Total of four are out now, collect them all and win a prize!
August 25th, 2006 at 11:38 am
Marzipan is completely vile. You are quite right about that.
July 10th, 2007 at 11:17 pm
[...] I’ve been tagged to do some memes, most recently by by Eryl and Foots. I’ve done memes before here and there so I don’t do them often, but I’ve been off-blog for a while so I thought I’d get back into the way of it by responding, albeit tardily, to their tags. [...]
March 9th, 2008 at 5:45 pm
BiPolar Information …
Information on BiPolar Disorder…