This perversion of a meme comes from the warped and twisted mind of The Party Pony. Blame her. The rules are: answer whatever you want. Add new questions if you want. Tag whoever you want. Go for broke.
Are you a rutabaga?
Why yes–yes, I AM a rutabaga. You are the first person to ever notice, so thank you for finally recognizing the truth of who I am, in a world full of people who scoff at my root vegetable aspirations.
When was the last time you ate lion meat?
I have never eaten lion meat: I’m horribly allergic.
Upload a heartwarming picture of something that makes you smile.
If you could go back in time and kick the crap out of someone, who would it be?
The inventor of pantyhose. What a dick.
Name one habit that makes other people plot your demise.
I sing in the shower. Badly.
What song would you like to be playing while you are kicking the crap out of someone?
Let’s see . . . how about “Army of Me” by Bjork?
Where da muffin top at?
Why you can find delectable muffin tops at Maggie’s Buns.
How many goats, stacked atop one another like Yertle’s Turtles, would it take to reach the moon?
This depends on the breed of goat, foolish woman. All goats are NOT created equal.
Describe yourself using obscure Latin words.
Grouchicus grammaticus: the cranky writer.
Why does evil exist?
Evil exists because of books, duh. That is why we must keep them away from our precious babies, haven’t you heard?
What the fuck are you thinking right now?
I don’t want to make dinner. That’s why I’m blogging.
And, My addition:
Make up a whacky question that must be answered by the people you tagged. Here is mine.
If you could decide whose face should go on the money, who would you pick?
Tag 11 blogger friends, or some other random number that suits you. (My random number was 4.) Ha! You can’t say “no tagbacks” because I just made up new rules! BOO YAH. Make up your own rules or be enslaved by another blogger’s.
Make up a rhyme about number 2.
Oh Mindy M., the Big Black Cat
Your blog is totally where it’s at,
Won’t you do this silly meme,
It’s not as easy as it seems!
Where would number 3 hide in the event of the apocalypse?
Under a pretty red mushroom.
Number 11 dreams about…
Mermaids and shipwrecks, Owls and drowning, love and Selkies. And all kinds of other crazy too.