My personality split five ways from Sunday

Memed again. The Heretik has attacked this time, demanding five random facts about myself. Apologies to the Countess, who memed me first with her Meme of Seven, but I'm going to deal with the Heretik first, just because his meme's a whole lot easier and I'm in a hurry. I'll get to Trish's this week and aren't you all just aquiver with anticipation.

Like I said, I'm in a hurry this morning. Have to get on the road for some more holiday traveling before the snow flies, so I'm not going to do as nice a job with this as the Heretik did himself. I'm not even going to use my own words. I swear every fact is true, though.

Points if you identify whose words I did use, but not many, because it's so easy. I made it easy so you can handle it even with your hangover. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sorry. I'll try to type more quietly.

You get a whole lot more points, plus a real analog post card from Lance Mannion delivered by your mailman to your actual, physical mailbox, if, either here or on your blog, you can give me facts about yourself using the same form of word theft and your address. Here goes. Five true facts about me:

1. I am not an out of work actor from Guilford.

2. I'm very well acquainted with the seven deadly sins. I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in. I'm proud to be a glutton and I don't have time for sloth, I'm greedy and I'm angry and I don't care who I cross.

3. I won't carry a gun. I'll carry your books, I'll carry a torch, I'll carry a tune, I'll carry on, carry over, carry forward, Cary Grant, cash and carry, carry me back to Ol' Virginny, I'll even hari kari, if you show me how. But I will not carry a gun.

4. When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, and trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, and look upon myself and curse my fate, wishing me like one more rich in hope, featured like him, like him with friends possessed, desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, with what I most enjoy contented least; yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, haply I think on thee, and then my state, like to the lark at the break of day arising from sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; for thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings, then then I scorn to change my state with kings.

5. Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.

Sunday, January 01, 2006 in Blogs About Town | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBack (0)