I know I’m not alone, because based on what I’ve been reading lately, a lot of people hate memes. Hate writing them. Hate receiving them. Hate reading them. One blogger has gone so far as to declare his site a meme-free zone. In his sidebar, he writes:
But before the ever-so-diplomatic Mr. Headbang8, Esq. undertook such drastic measures, he did tag me with a meme. And since I understand the well-intentioned thoughts behind recognising the efforts of fellow bloggers, and in the spirit of camaraderie, I am now going to do an all-in-one cluster-fuck meme.
The first one is for headbang and Renal Failure, who both gave me the E for Excellence writing award.
Headbang has ordained that I come up with three of my own examples based on that most likely bogus viral list of boneheaded high school essay similes and metaphors.
She had such a bad cold, her nose was running like water from a tap that needs fixing but nobody ever bothers to get around to it, because plumbers are expensive, you know.
Her eyes were twinkling like Liberace’s diamond-encrusted jacket used to, except that Liberace was a man, and a total poof as well, so I doubt if that counts, considering that when her eyes were doing all that sparkling, she was looking into the eyes of her man-hunk of a lover, who did have his effeminate side, but he wasn’t a poof, at least not that anyone knew at the time, though you never know for sure.
He struggled to find the right words to say, kind of like when you are uselessly flipping through the pages looking up a word in the dictionary because you already know the meaning but not the word you want, so you don’t know where to look.
I would love to stop here, but the memes and awards have been piling up and it really is time to clear the desk.
Expatraveler and Mr. Peace have nominated me for a writing award. A Lion’s Roar writing award for powerful words. An award named for the cry of an animal who sleeps all day, wakes up in the late afternoon, spends most of the evening prowling around preying on the youngest and oldest among the weak and defenceless, eating all he can before leaving the shredded scraps to the hyenas.
My good people, as much as I appreciate your recognition, can we call it the Hyena Award instead? I feel more comfortable as a hyena. The strongest jaws in nature, to match my mouth and the trouble it’s gotten me into. Happy to be who I am, if not king of beasts. Often heard laughing, mostly at myself.
There, that’s better
Photo credit: our 2006 trip to South Africa
Those who create an online magazine full of interesting and differing articles. Some original work and some work found elsewhere and given a personal spin. Bloggers who give us, not just the minutia of their day but add other content to amuse and educate us. Who trawl the world of cyberspace to bring us the best available news and information.
I appreciate this one very much, az. Here I was worried that all I do is throw against the wall whatever crosses my mind or field of view, and hope some of it will stick. The experts say that’s a no-no. Apparently, the rule is, you have to have a theme. Like, a blog about Stuff White People Like.
Believe it or not, another blogger gave me that Lion’s Roar award too, but I can’t find the link to it anymore. Was I de-awarded? Did the link die? If you’ve given me an award, tagged me with a meme, thought you liked this blog and told me so, and I failed to acknowledge it, I humbly beg your forgiveness. I may do it again, however. In true Canadian fashion: sorry.
© 2008 lettershometoyou