Seven (Future) Things About Me

During the last round of "Seven Things About Me," the blogger meme where you tell....yes... seven (likely unknown) things about yourself...I opted out when a few of my virtual friends asked me to play along, citing my previous involvement in the game.

I've rethought it and decided to play, but with a twist.

I will reveal seven things about my future self, and then call out a few bloggers to do the same.

1. After the publication of my epic saga and the subsequent sale of the movie rights to Spike Lee (who was in a bitter bidding war with Ron Howard), I was able to move to Adelaide, SA and became a citizen of Australia. I think it was the appointment of Sean Hannity as Secretary of Patriotism by President Limbaugh that finally tipped the scales.
2. I finally learned to surf, but finding surf in SA without great white sharks isn’t easy.
3. We have a vineyard and farm in the Barossa Valley. We make some wine, but we always end up drinking it all or giving it away as gifts. The farm is mostly an excuse for our dog to practice sheep herding, which he sucks at.
4. Whenever we visit the States (maybe once a year, lately) we like to mess with people by acting like we can’t understand them through their thick accents.
5. Our daily 30-minute show (Monday-Friday, live online) Radio Free Babylon, was banned in Saudi Arabia. Again. After that, Pepsi stopped sponsoring us, leaving the door open for Coke. The contract says we have to drink it on-camera, but I usually spike mine.
6. During the Canadian-American War, I started stockpiling weapons, water and food. Don’t come looking for them.
7. I can finally speak Spanish fluently, which is useless down here.

And now, your turn:

Bill
Kym
Kaitlyn
Chimp
Lori
MMM
Stan
Broad
Corey

Arrested Development

As the inventor of the Middle School Humor Index (MSHI) I am not the least bit surprised by this blog's ranking. I display this badge with shameful pride, if such an oxymoronic thing is possible.

Thanks to Make the Logo Bigger for the find.

Silly Blog Games

Seems the Chimp Messiah has called me out, suggesting that I am perhaps a redneck because I live in the Sub-South. ("Deeper than the Deep South" - Translation: Florida.) Apparently the game works like this: You get "tagged" - then you have to reveal some dumb unknowns about yourself. Then you are allowed to call out others. So in the interest of perpetuating the incestuous ad blog community and in deference to my Chimp Brethren, I will play along.

So here you go, Descendent of Monkeys. Some Jetpacks Facts. Although the game only calls for five, I will provide some bonus notes. There will be a test on Friday.

1. I was born in Frankfurt, Germany and attended a different school nearly every year, covering New York, Washington State, Georgia, Virginia, Kansas, California (twice), Oklahoma (twice), Texas and then Germany again and California again (for a third time). Also a long stint in Missouri. (Or "Purgatory" for you Catholics.) As a result, I have no discernable accent.

2. To my knowledge, I was the youngest person (aged 12) to have ever helped install an antennae on the roof of the Pentagon.

3. I am a licensed, ordained minister and can legally marry and bury you.

4. I telecommute to New York and Dallas, and it rules. The closest thing to the Jetpack Lifestyle that they promised. I am looking at a canal (which has alligators in it) from where I sit typing this. (Pictured at top. Cue redneck banjo music. Ned Beatty enters, stage left.)

5. I grill a mean salmon.

6. My dog plays frisbee. He has a blog.

7. Though we have three cars in our family, not one of them is American. And I will never buy a Chevy because I hate John Cougar Mellencamp for reasons I won't go into.

And now, I will call out the following bloggers:

Copyranter...because he will refuse to play this stupid game.

Ariel...because she will play this silly game.

Hespos...because he thinks too deeply about this ad biz.

George Parker...because he will drop f-bombs all over his post.

James H...because he will crap all over this game.