Come on, baby , light my fire

Eric lit a fire under my apathetic arse with a pass-it-on blog challenge he received from Ghost of a Flea. I had to blow the dust off my list of passwords to access my blog, and no. way. can I match the Erudite Eric, but what the hey.

"Following this is a list of different occupations. You must select at least five of them. You may add more if you like to your list before you pass it on (after you select five of the items as it was passed to you). Of the five you selected, you are to finish each phrase with what you would do as a member of that profession. Then pass it on to three other bloggers. OF COURSE you all without blogs are welcome to play along in comments!"


If I could be an IRS Commissioner...I would audit Bill and Hillary Clinton, because turn-about is fair play. Then I'd audit every congress critter who voted for silly pork programs (all of 'em, I think!) Then I'd figure out what percentages of your tax go to idiotic programs like the NEA, and I'd let you all know just exactly how much of your money goes where.

Then I'd break for a nice cup of tea. On your tax dollar.

If I could be a scientist...ouch ... this is what I wanted to be when I grew up, but circumstances forbade. I ended up with weird allergies and basically, working around the most commonly used solvents could kill me so I had to change directions. Almost killed myself when I was little, playing Mad Scientist in the basement. No, you really should not mix bleach and clorox. It's not just one of those goofy things parents say.

Lessee, where was I? O yeah. If I could be a scientist, I'd be an organic chemist, working in an analytical job where they give you an unknown and you have to figure out what it is. That's my idea of a good time. Can you imagine getting paid to play with puzzles all day long?

If I could be a bonnie pirate... I would sail the seven seas on stormy scarey nights and in gentle sunny breeze, I'd touch all ports of land, know all manner and type of man, dance upon the sand, hold a starfish in my hand, call the deep my home and forever, ever, roam.

Plus, I could have lots of black powder weapons, which would be really cool.

If I could be a painter... I would paint Absurd!, a painting I can see in my mind but lack the talent to execute. I see a trendy bar with a dock on the Anclote River. On the dock, a heavily made-up woman eyeballs a pelican with a fish in his mouth. The angle is woman-profile and pelican-head on. I'm not sure if the woman is older 'mutton dressed as lamb' or younger, with a bejeweled belly hanging out between her low-riders and crop top.
& I would be such a good painter I'd earn my own way. Then I'd go visit the NEA parasites and say 'na na nanaa na.'

If I could be a TV-Chat Show host... I'd ask:

Sean Penn - so, just how many oil vouchers did you get from Saddam Hussein?

Whoopi Goldberg - Ms. Goldberg, you have publicly stated that 'Communism is not so bad.' Do you still hold that opinion, and if so, may I have half your assets?

Sony Executives - Sir (or madam as the case may be), through its advertising, your company actively encourages young people to play extremely offensive and unpalatable music quite loudly. This is harmful to the hearing and spiritual health of young people; hard on the environment; and it causes older people and people of taste to despise the younger and cruder. How in the sam hill do you manage to look at yourself in mirror without throwing up? What arrangements has Sony made to deal with the inevitable lawsuits you can expect to see in 5 to 10 years, as people begin to experience hearing loss due to the very loud bass your stereos spew out and push as a desired feature? Or, as an executive with a golden parchute, is this something you simply don't worry your pretty little head about?

Wow - I'm up to five already! . . must . . stop . . .

Oh, just one more:

If I could be a linguist, I would pluck out the effing tongue of the next person to use 'authentic' in the snooty, condescending, elitist artsty-phartsy manner of Nina Gilden Seavey.

"Will country music allow them to be who they're meant to be?"

What the F?!? Who in the h does little Ms. Seavey think she is, determining who other people are 'meant to be?' Arrogant bitch. What? Am I not permitted eggrolls and tacos unless I can point to chinese and mexican roots? Does my scottish/german/english heritage condemn me to saurkraut, haggis and warm beer because Ms. Seavery determines my cultural heritage 'meant it be'?

SNOOT! INEFFABLE SNOOT!

faugh . .

Ahem. 'kay, I'm done.

Inka Bink
A bottle of Ink
The cork fell out and now
Robert at the Back Road has to do this, because his posts have all been way too technical for me, and James and Dave because I want to see what a gun guy can do with a candlestick.

The list is long enough, guess I won't add any more.

If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a backup dancer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a midget stripper...
If I could be a proctologist...
If I could be a TV-Chat Show host...
If I could be an actor...
If I could be a judge...
If I could be a Jedi...
If I could be a butcher . . .
If I could be a baker...
If I could be a candlestick maker...
If I could be an IRS Commissioner...
If I could be an Indian Chief...

It's a fun exercise -

If I had a hundred dollars to spend, or maybe a little bit more

Happy Spring!