A rotten horrible challenge from Tobin Elliott

So far, I've been pretty lucky, never receiving any chain letters for at least the last two years. And then this morning, dang it...This happens.

I went and checked out Tobin's blog this morning, and he said...

I got shenked by Nate

Apparently I’ve been Shenked by Nate.  That is, Nate Shenk over at ShenkItUp who’s tagline is “Wanna get shenked?”.  He got nailed, so he’s passed this along like some sexually transmitted disease to me.  A real sick internet “hashtag you’re it!” sorta thing.

So…here’s apparently what I must do to get myself out of this mess…

• I must post 11 things about myself.
• Answer the questions asked by the tagger (Nate).
• I must tag 11 other bloggers to continue the game.
• Create 11 new questions for the bloggers I then tag to answer.
• Inform each blogger that I have tagged them.
• Post the rules for the tagged bloggers to follow.

Let’s see what damage I can do here, all right?

You can read the rest over at Left to Write.

Now, fortunately, I don't follow 11 other blogs, so I'm automatically out of the game.  On top of that, of the blogs I do follow, 70% are professional blogs with multiple contributors, and 25% are also tagged in Tobin's list of victims, and I don't want to hit them up twice.  The remaining blogger...well, I just asked her ten questions last night, and the answers will be posted on Friday.

But I'll try to be a good sport and do my part for the other four steps in this dastardly game.

11 Things About Myself

1.  This morning I had a dream about Jack McGee (the annoying reporter from The Incredible Hulk TV series in the '70s and '80s), and about forensic paperwork, time travel, two nasty CIA agents, antiques and and some My Little Pony dolls I had back in the '80s.  I cried uncontrollably when I saw the dolls, and I'm not really sure why...

Truly tear-inducing.

2.  I have to take the dog out now.

3.  I have a horse-shoe shaped subdermal scar on my right calf just below the knee.  It comes from a horse riding accident I had in the late '90s.  After falling from the horse, the horse stomped on me and ran away.

4.  I fractured my ankle back in the '80s after goofing around on the jungle gym at a local park.  I'd been trying to impress my boyfriend (we were 12 at the time), and I tried to jump from the very top of the jungle gym.  Unfortunately, my foot got tangled in the cargo netting and I did a 180, falling on my head and leaving my twisted foot above me.  I don't remember crying.  I do remember thinking, "This is a stupid way to impress a boy."  A couple of days later, someone told me he'd dumped me and had started going out with my anorexic bff.

5.  Apparently army green brings out the yellow in my eyes.  At least, so said a fellow 48th Highlander one morning in the mess hall.  He told me that overall I wasn't much to look at, but I had pretty eyes, the colour of fresh spring grass with some bright yellow pee in it.

Not actually my eye.  Add more blood-shot-ness, and darker bags under the eye.

6.  And speaking of my army days...My "butch factor" increased exponentially one afternoon, not because of any feat of strength, but because of Coke.  See, I'd gone two weeks without a drink of Coke, drinking nothing but water out of a canteen and the occasional instant coffee out of a pack of rations.  Then came the tuck shop (a foot locker filled with ice and real carbonated beverages).  We had exactly ten minutes between training classes, and I was seriously jonesing.  So I drank a full bottle of Coca Cola - and not one of those small bottles either.  A litre of Coke in ten minutes.  On my way into the class, I thought, "That's strange.  I haven't burped yet."  In the class, our master corporal was already in a furious mood (his face was red, and we hadn't even started annoying him yet).  As angrily as possible, he explained all the various components of a particular weapon.  Meanwhile, the bomb was ticking and pressure was building.  Then, the Master Corporal picked up another object from the table and said, "And this..."  To which I responded, "Baarraaaaaaaaaawaawaawaaapuhawaaaawaaaaraaawaaaaaaurghaaaaawawawawap."  The Master Corporal blinked, and without missing a beat, said, "...is a gas plug, which apparently Flewwelling needs."

7.  My dog just looked at me and pooted as I wrote that.

8.  I still haven't watched The Godfather or subsequent movies.

9.  When I was six, I had a crush on Hercules.  I used to polish my nails for him right before the start of the next episode.

Olym...PIA!!!

10.  Apparently I swear (loudly) in my sleep.  I also wake suddenly at nothing, look around, and go back to sleep.

11.  Growing up, I only wanted to be one of three things:  a princess, a professional wrestler, or a writer.

The 11 Questions for the Tagged Bloggers (Tobin's questions back to his quarry)

1. Why do you blog?  Because I can't play piano.  Well that, and because it's a great way to start building an audience before I publish a book, and because it's a fantastic way to help emerging artists get a little more exposure.
2. What country (other than your current one) would you like to live in?  Easy answer!  Wales.  Hands down.  I went there in 2004, and I never quite came back.
3. Who’s the best band/artist in the world?  Queen.  Nobody could move an audience of millions like Freddie Mercury.  And he didn't have to do it with pyrotechnics or flashy costumes or a meat dress and extraterrestrial hairdos - though he did have his wacky moments too.  But he could move people just by the power of his voice and his personality.
4. If you could have a conversation with any three people, living or dead, who would you choose?  I would say Dona Catalina de Erauso, Nikola Tesla and Ernest Hemingway.  The only problem is, I don't think they would talk to me, let alone each other.  But can you imagine the fireworks?
5. In the course of your day, you hear a message from God (or your deity of choice) telling you to leave your job, family, and life and live as a fisherman (or woman) on the Nile.  There’s no doubt in your mind it’s truly God speaking to you.  Do you go?  Absolutely.  I've had the most incredible, formative, and touching adventures by suspending rational thought and following "the Voice."  It's scary how sometimes I arrive just in time to help someone else, and they to help me, when I listen and go.  But hopefully, I won't have to kill the fishes after I catch them.  I've had a bad history with fish that won't die.  It involves screaming.  And hand-flapping.
6. You have one week to live.  What do you do in the seven days left to you?  The same as I do all the time.  I already live every week as if it's my last.  I might take a moment to tell a few people some bottled up things, but otherwise, I can die content not having said them.
7. Your deity of choice (and if you’re an athiest, just go with me here) is holding a Celestial Interview.  You’re allowed only one question to Him/Her.  What would it be?  Simple.  "Why?"
8. Has the Earth been visited by aliens?  Why or why not?  Observed, probably.  Visited?  Probably not.  Why bother?  Think of it - using Google Maps, we can look at the shirt, shoes and pants of some woman who fell down on the sidewalk.  If some alien intelligence is able to create interstellar craft, couldn't they make something a little more advanced and real-time than Google Maps?  If I were an alien, I'd observe us from afar, and I'd get very sad and bored all too quickly.  I don't need to visit some Earth diner for a nice corned beef sandwich to know how great and how cruel humanity can be.
9. You can have any occupation in the world.  What would it be?  Writer.  I'm not loud enough to be a professional wrestler, and princesses have to deal with too much drama.
10. What’s the difference between an orange?  Cephalopod squared.
11. Define the universe and give three examples.  The universe is a big old assembly of distinct, bizarre and sometimes amorphous bodies clumping together in cliques, attracting and repulsing each other ad infinitum;  lesser bodies revolve around planets, planets around stars, stars revolve around centres of incorporated galaxies, galaxies revolve around nothing; someone's always watching the whole thing play out and trying to make sense of it; many people think there's someone behind the scenes manipulating it all; and everybody would rather spin out into nothingness and avoid hanging off each other for too long.  You know, it's rather like an overlarge church, or an after party for the Oscars, or any science fiction convention.

So, really, I would like to forward this on, because I think this is fun.  But Tobin took all the good names, and everyone else is too busy.  Sorry Tobin...I kinda flamed out.  So, here, have some Freddy Mercury instead.