Oral Onanism Gets Mentioned In This (And That Works According To The Rules Set Forth, But Not If You Include This Parenthetical)

One of my more faithful readers, Crazy Cath, has tagged me. She's a psychiatric nurse by profession, which may come in handy later. She has asked me to do a meme of sorts. Being a lazy bastard – I should be writing up a few stories spurred by the treasure trove of family photographs that Dorothy gave me during my visit with her - and, by the way, Miriam, I got your letter - but I just don’t feel like putting in the effort, even though they’ll be really good stories and more likely to make you want to return than the following will (or this sentence – what a mess!) – I am going to do the meme.

The meme has the following rules:

1 – Write the title to your own memoir using exactly six words.

2 – Post it on your blog.

3 – Link to the person who tagged you.

4 – Tag five other bloggers.

Here’s my take on the rules:

Rule #1 sounds like a fun challenge. I’ll get to it after I spout a whole bunch of nonsensical filler concerning the other three rules.

Rule #2 (no offense, Crazy Cath) seems rather superfluous. I mean, if you go around composing six word titles to memoirs JUST IN YOUR HEAD, it doesn’t seem like a very useful endeavor, so of course you post it to your blog. However, in the UK (where Crazy Cath is from) they spell endeavor with a “u”, thusly: endeavour. So, maybe they do other things that are wastes of time and see them as perfectly useful endeavours, such as composing six word titles to memoirs JUST IN YOUR HEAD, and, if so, it explains why we whomped their asses in 1776 and have hardly had any trouble from them ever since then, unless you count 1812, which they probably don’t, so why should we? Their generals were all going around inserting superfluous U's into words and composing six word titles to their memoirs JUST IN THEIR HEADS, while George Washington was making actual battle plans. Of course, blogs hadn't been invented then, otherwise he would probably have been ranting to everyone back home in Mount Vernon about how miserable the winter was in Valley Forge, and then where would we be? Spelling color, colour, that's where! USA! USA! USA!

(As a matter of fact, I say we just make it SA! SA! SA! so we all remember just why we won the revolution.)

Rule #3 has been taken care of three times as many times as called for. That’s just the kind of people we Americans are, generos to a falt.

(Shhhhhh! She doesn’t know we don’t actually spell them that way!)

(Crazy Cath doesn’t, I mean. Four times as many times now. Generos! To a falt!)

Rule #4 is what all of you are dreading by this point (or, at least, you should be.) No fair skipping ahead to see if I’ve chosen you. You’ll have to make up your excuses for not doing it when you get there, not before.

OK, I suppose it’s time to give you my six-word memoir title. Here are a few I considered, but decided that they didn’t quite capture my true essence.

ENDEAVOUR. COLOUR. AND CHIPS ARE NOT FRENCH FRIES, DAMN IT! AND IF I EVER CALLED A TRUCK A LORRY, TRUCKERS FROM COAST-TO-COAST WOULD KICK MY ASS (EXCUSE ME, "ARSE") AND RIGHTFULLY SO. 1776! 1812! GENEROS! TO A FALT! CRAZY CATH! NOW IT’S FIVE TIMES AS MANY TIMES! I’M SO CLEVER, I WISH I COULD SUCK MY OWN DICK JUST TO SHOW MYSELF APPRECIATION FOR HOW MUCH I AMUSE ME (BUT I SUPPOSE I'LL HAVE TO SETTLE FOR GIVING MYSELF A HEARTY HANDSHAKE, INSTEAD.)

(Of course, that’s far more than six words, which is why I’m not using that one.)

(PARENTHESES.) (LOTS OF ‘EM.) (TOUGH SHIT.)

(That has the requisite six words, and does tell you something about what you could expect in the memoir, but it’s just a tad too belligerent.)

I’M GOD’S FAVORITE. DEAL WITH IT.

(The truth, of course, but obnoxious.)

THE TRUTH, OF COURSE, BUT OBNOXIOUS.

(Wait a minute. Am I inside the parentheses now or outside? I’ve lost track. This is harder than I thought.)

THIS IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT.

(That’s what she said.)

(No, no, no. I don’t mean Crazy Cath [six times; generos, falt] as she’s a fine moral married woman, and religious, and I’m not really sure that Brits actually have sex, and if they do, they probably call it intercorse. Shhhhhh! She doesn’t know it’s not spelled that way!)

LIBERTARIANS. SOFTBALL. CELTICS. READERSHIP DECLINES. WHOOPS!

(Too truthful. And if I start talking about those things now, I won’t have a single reader left [not even Crazy Cath; seven times; generos, falt.])})])

{Hah. Curly Brackets. N’YUK! N’YUK! N’YUK! Moe! Larry! The Cheese!}

HELLO? ANYONE STILL HERE? CRAZY CATH?

(Eight times.)

(Generos.)

(Falt.)

SOON, WITH MORE BETTER STUFF.

(Nope. That’s only five words, and a lie to boot.)

WHAT A BUNCH OF MEANDERING HORSECRAP!

Yup. That’ll do it. Honest, to the point, crude, and showing up about 500 words later than needed. That's me, in a nutshell.

And now, I tag...

Fat Hairy Bastard, Mushy, Buck, Lime, and John-Michael (the first three of whom will probably be mortified beyond belief to have been tagged in a post that includes a mention concerning sucking one’s own dick, and the other two of whom probably will be, too, but will be too nice to say anything about it.)

Soon, with... Oh, hell with it.

(Wait! That's six words! Can I change my title, please?)

(Ooh! Ooh! That's six words, too!)

(Oh my God! So is that!)

(My goodness! And so is this!)

(Aaaaaarrrrgggghhhh! I can't stop! Shit! Shit!)

(*keels over dead from apoplectic attack*)