Tagged to dig deep and reveal my inner-most bean…
First, the O’Neils lived next door to us when I was twelve and they had the best raspberries on Bridge Road (but not as many as they might have had if I hadn’t been such a raspberry gourmand).
b) Chuck was mean to my little brother and I’ve felt conflicted about my inadequate defense ever since. Chuck is now an Anglican priest in Kentucky, or he was the last I heard. This proves that even if you were born and raised fundamentalist, you can still beat up on people smaller than you and the grace of god may be given to you and you can climb the social ladder.
iii) I’m as mean as i ever was, but that’s no secret.
4) I read about the girls who were fighting at school and their odd interaction through MySpace with an anonymous mom chipping in and causing trouble and so forth, and I thought that I have no clue WTF is going on there, just as no one had a clue last spring when that troubled woman in Boulder and her mate used the PR power of the web to lash out and hurt people. I know how bad I felt though.
v. I don’t own my own tractor. I rent or borrow. Renting is cheaper, because if you borrow you have to come up with something nice to pay your neighbor back, and he won’t necessarily remember your attempts at finding the quid pro quo and so will probably think you owe him something anyway.
six I am a link whore, and Technorati exists to show me how bad business is on my street corner.
fin I think I would be happiest if I could simply be a food blogger. My Aunt Karen, Uncle Don’s wife, made the best red velvet cake. She had a secret recipe that she wouldn’t even share with Grandma.
do-over on iii) I like Google, I like Amazon, and my business, Sandhill Technologies, is a “Microsoft partner.” But then I also worked for Bank of America back in the day when the phrase “belly of the beast” was in common usage.
These tag deals usually require you to tag others in the hope that they will reveal seamy secrets of their own. “As if,” is the expected response from these tagstravaganzas, but just in case someone wants to grin and bare their souls, how about if we ask Helga, Ronni, Tamar, Norm, Doug, Winston, and Dean. Oh yeah, and Brian and Scruggs and Tom and Zo.
As if.
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millie garfield 12.04.07 at 6:21
Hi Frank
I received an invitation to be your friend on Facebook and clicked on the wrong button.
Please invite me again, I would like to be your friend. This time I will click on “Confirm.”
Thanks,
Millie
Frank Paynter 12.04.07 at 6:24
Hi Millie! I’ll do just that.
madame l. 12.04.07 at 8:00
i had no idea you had a brother who is a fucking priest! you never told me that. i can’t believe that! i am surrounded by people who have relatives in the clergy.
i once spoke to AKMA on the phone (on a completely unrelated matter) and he seemed very competent and, well, efficient. but i bet if i were to meet him i would say something like “well, you should see the painting MY kid did” and totally ruin the moment. i did admire his anger at the authorities in the vineyard or nantucket (or somesuch place where they killed 25% of my ancestors) when they wouldn’t let him sit on a bench outside of the library and use their wifi.
the french fake japanese zen buddhist guy (whose room i found the pr0n in) has a brother who, apparently, is a very important bishop (VIB) in paris. mari asked if he could only move diagonally. i hope he wasn’t going to see the bishop on the day somebody might have super-glued a very small cut out from his mag on the front bumper of his car. (black and white, man wearing fishnets from the back, very hard to discern unless you looked very closely— sort of a seraut or litchenstein feel to it, if you get the point. we’re talking 3″square here. small. subtle.)
see how much i am missing having opted out of FesseBook? even my fake characters deleted their accounts. (don’t play meskill in scrabble; she’ll kick your ass. rangaswami is no slouch either.)
going to pass on the red velvet to meadhbh. she can make little rat cupcakes for the villagers.
Frank Paynter 12.04.07 at 9:00
No. Chuck the bully is the priest. My little brother is… someone else.
tamarika 12.05.07 at 6:11
Okay - I rose to the occassion and grinned and wept, and “bared” even more than I usually do. Oh well … and I said, “Frank, thanks, I think.”
Winston 12.05.07 at 7:11
Damn! Just when I was about to be caught up with stuff so I could start a long winter nap… Oh, well, always something… May take a couple of days, but I’ll prepare a collage of little known, weird, unbelievable, incomprehensible orts that somehow represent my innards.
Zo 12.05.07 at 7:33
As if.
tom 12.06.07 at 12:09
I confess I secretly thought Mme L and her alter egos (egas? eggos?) only dropped out of my fesseboke.
As entirely self-centered as it is to say, I feel better now. One never knows what of the virtual-personal to take, virtually, personal, you know.
bmo 12.09.07 at 3:30
Is that your house in the header frank?
Frank Paynter 12.09.07 at 3:57
Yes.