Squee. Somebody likes me over there. *Blush* (updated 2011-10-14)Or, at least two people like me, in different ways. I’m flattered and honoured, especially as I really don’t deserve any of this.
–which didn’t quite take off like its author intended. A shame, as (one spelling mistake aside) it’s a damn fine line. I wish I came up with anything that good when drunk. So they repeated the same thing, in a different context:
–which didn’t quite work out either, but then I got some more love, looks like from someone who maybe thought that first line wasn’t that good, or was pejorative. That whole exchange above is a curious thing: it looks to me like there might be just two individuals involved, with the first one (calling themselves me) also providing the “actual and factual” response (which fits with my earlier portrayals on BB as a nerdy type and stickler for facts and reasoning).
Alternatively: it’s the same person writing the lot–not uncommon on BB for people to try to occupy space / airtime by having conversations with themselves. There’s some dramatic, if kinda scary, ones in the past.
Or my alter-ego is developing off-shoots and multiplying. Ginger takes over the world!
UPDATE: oooh, a slight development–I wouldn’t say things evolved, but at least they didn’t devolve:
Note for the record:
- my parents loved me–still do–and I love them; we’re outrageously lucky in that, it’s wonderful, and I always wonder at it anew every time I think about it or we talk or see each other. Go love. Great stuff. BB, thanks for reminding me!
- booty: I will never be posting up pictures of my ass. On here, or MUA, or BB, or anywhere else. There have to be some limits. Basic decency to be respected. Not scaring children and animals. Especially as, like most gingers, my entire anatomy glows in the dark… but too scary even for a Hallowe’en costume.
- cool: I wish I were 1% as cool as The Despiser thinks I think I am. That would be nice.
- ah: but: not very cosy in winter though. Conundrum… OK: never mind the cool, cool’s overrated compared to warm, fuzzy, cuddly, snug, toasty, and preferably under an eiderdown. Organic, free-range, feathers fluffed off by migrating ducks, not harmed in the process–indeed, blissfully unaware as feathers harvested ethically and sustainably from where they’d left them lying around and stuck to things, etc., etc.–of course.
- aaah, the joys of blogging (at least, updating later) in good company, over a nice whisky!