Triple Dipper

Wordnerd just got around to answering HER 5 questions, thus beginning the cycle of interviewing and intervieweeing all over again. It's like the Line Ride at the Cow Days Festival in South Park, Colorado. "I wanna go again! I wanna go again!" I can't even come close to the breadth and quality of her preamble, but it reminded me of a parking lot carnival in Grand Rapids one weekend around my 12th birthday. I had a buncha friends overnight, and we partied into the wee hours. There were pillowfights and pizza, cheetos and broken teeth, an unbelievable amount of Orange Crush, and a potion made of Tobasco, Scope, pickle juice, and shaving cream for the poor schmuck who fell asleep first. Oddly enough, we all fell asleep at the same time. Early the next morning, we took our bikes up to the carnival and rode the rides. We climbed aboard the swing-thing, and it raised us up as it began its rotation. These rides are amusing, especially to a pile of kids who are trying to twist around backwards and kick each other while hurtling through space 20 feet off the ground. After a while, we'd had our fill of fun. However, the classic leather-skinned mono-toothed greasy-haired vulgar-tatooed ride operator was working his romantic magic on a pasty local Dutch girl and left us hanging. Quite literally. For about 12 minutes (which, according to This Reporter's research, is at least 4x longer than the regulation ride length). There is a reason certain rides are called 'the spin-and-puke' variety. Not a one of us were unaffected, and we showed our appreciation for the generous helping of centrifugal amusement by decorating the parking lot in shades of orange. I told you it wouldn't be as good. On to the Questions - Ms. Nerd gets fiery red for questions, my answers are in basic black. 1. I’m going to be in your area next Friday night, and as luck would have it, you’re free! What will we do? First, I check the weather. Crap, cloudy and not warm. In that case, we head downtown and visit the BOB (Big Old Building) - a warehouse converted into restaurants and brewpubs and a comedy club. If we get sick of talking, eating, drinking and shooting pool, there are lots of other places with live music or quiet cafes within walking distance. That'd be one proper use of a Friday night. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Chicken. I can prove it. What scares you? Besides bears? Spiders landing on me. And my own capacity for bad behavior. Where do you see yourself in five years? Incredibly fit, financially secure, and deliriously happy. Geography doesn't matter. It's your last meal, and you can have anything you want. What'll it be? Depends on the circumstances of said last meal. If it's because I'm on death row to be punished for my fully justified but still illegal killing of someone who needed killin,' I'd have stuffed cabbage rolls. If it were because of an unseen defect in my bungee cord just before leaping off the Victoria Falls Bridge, it would have been hot dogs and rice. I try to eat stuff that doesn't suck so I wouldn't regret my choice in case THIS meal is my last. Lean Cuisine Panini for lunch today.