So after being challenged to a "meme" by the (hopefully) litter trained Kittymao (found here: http://kittymao.wordpress.com/ ), I was left with little option, save for booting up the old internets and seeing what I could find. Well, first I cursed Kittymao for setting me on this journey. But then, should I expect less from a Chinese Dictator Cat? They're a devious lot, to be sure. And really kickass artists, although I don't think that's necessarily a result of the devious nature. After pondering this for a bit, I hit up freedictionary and found out the following:
A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another
Okay, so "meme" is a noun? Did you get anything else out of that? Tell me I'm not the only idiot here, but that definition has me more confused than before. Fuck.
Clearly, this was getting me no where. A more direct investigation was needed, post haste. Because I was quickly losing interest. I was going to have to use......verbal communication. In the form of a telephone call. I briefly considered screaming "What's a meme?" for anyone to hear, while standing out on my balcony, but decided the odds of receiving a response beyond "SHUT THE FUCK UP", were slim at best. No, a phone call to a higher authority on the subject was the answer. I excitedly picked up the phone and started to dial, when it hit me. How do you pronounce "meme"? Fuck.
Like so many other times, Google saves the day. God bless Google. I'm very capable of making myself look stupid in any number of interesting ways. Mispronouncing words is a hassle I don't need. According to memecentral.com, "meme" is pronounced with a long "e". Like meem.
Armed with this new knowledge, I once again pick up my phone and confidently dial "The Friend". Or TF if you prefer. I kind of do.
Kris: Hey buddy. How's it going?
TF: ...........who is this?
Kris: It's Kris! Look I need your help.
TF: Oh jeez. Not you again. Why do you keep calling here?
My friends are hilarious. They always play this game with me, where they pretend they don't know who I am. My friends are great. I have friends.
Kris: (whispers) look...just play along....HA HA. That's so funny, pal. I just need to ask you one question though. I need your help.
TF: Why were you whispering before?
Kris: Come on. Just answer one question for me, and I'll leave you alone. I promise.
TF: You won't call here anymore?
Kris: Never ever again. I promise....fingers crossed.
TF: You probably would have been better off just crossing your fingers, instead of announcing it.
Kris: PLEASE. JUST ONE QUESTION.
TF: Okay fine. But don't call me again tonight at least.
Kris: I can't promise that.
TF: Jesus Christ, just ask your damn question.
Kris: What's a meme?
TF: That's your question? What's a meme? Jesus Christ. A meme is like an FYI on you. Like a list of things about you. Interesting tidbits of your interests or personality. NOW FUCK OFF.
And just like that, I had my answer. On to Kitty's page to see what this actually entails. Kitty's page said this:
1) Link back to the person who tagged you. 2) Post the rules on your blog. 3) Write six things about yourself. 4) Tag six people at the end of your post by posting links to their blog sites. 5) Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their site. 6) And let your tagger know when your entry is up.
Holy fuck, she's really putting me to work, isn't she? Damn communist cats. Okay, so steps one and two are already done. 4 more steps to go. Spoiler warning: I'm particularly worried about step 4. I don't think I know any bloggers that haven't already been tagged by this shit. I may have to skip that step due to lack of options. So 6 things about me, huh? Pull up a chair. Because I'm sure a lot of you are standing at your computers right now.
1. I don't like to shit in public bathrooms. I have a bit of a phobia about it. But not the phobia you might be thinking of. The hygienic nature doesn't bother me. I mean, I'm not going to sit down on top of someone else's piss, but I'm not a germaphobe either. I don't carry around a little bottle of sanitizer with me. No, the thing that bugs me is those doors that don't quite reach down to the floor. Is a little privacy too much to ask for when I'm sitting on the toilet, log half way out of my ass? I'm sure there aren't people clamouring for their turn to peek in on me mid dump, but still. I just don't like the idea that some random weirdo could be a quick kneel away from gawking at me in a very vulnerable state. Call me crazy.
2. I'm a really fussy eater when it comes to meat. I'll eat just about anything, but if you try to offer me meat that has bones in it, huge marbled pieces of fat, or still resembles the part of the animal it came from, you will be firmly rebuked. Fried chicken is the sometime exception to this rule. But FUCK chicken wings. They look like little chicken arms, and you're gnawing on them! I'm not a member of PETA, like "Oh that's cruel. You shouldn't eat meat", but gnawing on a piece of meat, that is very clearly the arm of an animal grosses me out. The wings that are split so that they just look like little drumsticks are okay. But those ones you get at KFC? Gross. And maybe I'm weird, but I'm sure as hell not a dog, so you won't catch me chewing on any bones. My grandma cracks that shit open and sucks out the marrow. I love you Grandma, but that's fucking gross. And people that eat the fat off of steaks? It's the consistency of jello, people! And I don't know about you, but the idea of "meat" jello is not one I find appetizing.
3. I have a weird obsession with showing people music. I don't know why, but whenever anyone comes over to my apartment, I feel the need to say "Hey, have you ever heard this?". And then I cue up some random song. Often times, its a really cheesy 80's song. If even one of the songs I play is a hit, if it gets my guest to bob their head along in time to the beat, a huge smile spreads across my face. I just really get off on this. So if you ever come over to my place, be prepared to indulge my habit. There's just so much great music out there, that you may never come into contact with, if not for somebody saying "Hey man, check this out". Take this for example:
That was The Libertines singing "Can't Stand Me Now". If I just showed any of you a great song that you've never heard before, let me know!
4. I can't hold my liquor. Not even a little bit. I am a cheap drunk. Which doesn't make sense seeing as how I top 6' and weigh over 200 lbs. I used to be a real lush in high school. Getting drunk a couple of times a week or more was always the norm. And not always exclusively on the weekends. But when I hit legal age, I started bartending. And seeing people drunk all of the time, while I was sober, really turned me off of alcohol. So I pretty much stopped drinking. As it is now, I will maybe get drunk once every couple of months. And I never have a drink, just to have one. If I'm having a drink, I'm getting smashed. These days, that takes about 6 drinks. I know, right? One drink and I get all red in the face. If it's a double, the dance floor becomes irresistible. You know what, fuck that. The dance floor would be irresistible even if I was only drinking coffee. That's besides the point.
5. I am an unabashed car singer. If I have a car, and a working radio at my disposal, I immediately lose all inhibitions and forget the fact that a singer, I am not. I don't give a shit if you are stopped beside me at a red light, staring into my car with a disdainful look on your face. I will serenade the fuck out of you, hand motions and eye contact and everything. Just try and stop me. Genre won't even stand in my way. I'll throw some hip hop at you if that's what's playing at the time. Doesn't matter that I'm whiter than Bryant Gumbel. Is a Bryant Gumbel reference considered dated?
6. I have a slow building feeling of dread about approaching my thirties. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I've pledged to quit smoking by the time I'm 30. Tasty tasty carcinogens will be my undoing if I'm not careful. I've allowed myself to smoke until I'm 30 because everyone is allowed to do stupid things while they're in their 20's. Had a one night stand? Fuck, you're in your 20's! Have fun! Drank way too much and woke up with a new tattoo? 20's! Try and pull that shit when you're in your 30's and everyone's like "Oh, when is he going to grow up? You know he turned 30 last year, right?". It's like you're expected to completely grow up and have your shit together on the stroke of midnight of your 30th birthday. I'm scared.
And that's more information about me than any of you realistically needs. Try not to use your new found knowledge for evil. I would if I were you, but again, besides the point. Which brings us to step 4. Six people, huh? As I said at the outset of this little endeavour, I'm going to have to cheat a bit here. There's only two bloggers I know who haven't already been subjected to this madness, so two is all you gets.
Furry Chocolates is a fellow Canuck, and is definitely worth a click. No, I'm not being perverted. I mean, click on the link and check out her page. Fucking sicko.
Laurie is the coolest chick in Texas. If you are from Texas, you are not as cool as Laurie Kendrick. Unless you are Laurie Kendrick, in which case, you are exactly as cool as Laurie Kendrick.
Why do I get the feeling that tagging people in this way is the blogging equivalent of asking your friends to help you move? I feel so dirty.
I wonder what TF thinks about all of this? Excuse me while I make a call...