Here’s a pointless game. I’ll use song lyrics to ask a question, and you try to find lyrics from a different song that fit as an answer to the question. Here’s an example to get the creative juices flowing. “If I was a dancer, where would I dance?” ( Psychosis , The Refreshments) “In a happy little foreign town, where the stars hung upside down…” ( We Danced Anyway , Deanna Carter) The first person to answer the question can then add a question of their own, to be answered by ensuing comments. Assuming anyone actually tries this, I’ll try to publish the comments immediately to make things less confusing. Okay, here’s the question. I’ll make it an easy one: “Who do you love?” ( Love, Come Lighten My Load , Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers) [answer:]"I'm in love with Stacy's Mom." [next question:] "Everybody loves a clown, so why don't you?" [answer:] "Send in the clowns." [next question:] "Why do birds suddenly appear, ever...
I just had an age-old unsolved question brought up by Brooke . She asked me how my name is supposed to be pronounced, which is something I occasionally have pondered with no clear answer. Is it one syllable or two? I do know that if it’s two syllables you’d better emphasize the first one, because I’m not a girl. But is the vowel just a long O sound, or is it a diphthong morphing from the O sound to a “wuh” sound? At any rate, I decided it’s my prerogative to mandate the pronunciation of my name. So what should I do? One syllable, two syllables, plain O sound or “jowuhl”?
For some reason, as I was falling asleep last night, I began to wonder what my own personal hell would be like. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far: It would be really windy, all the time, and super hot and humid. Everybody, including me, would be renamed Dakota (Sorry to anybody who likes that name, if any of those people can read, but it’s my hell, not yours). I would be forced to listen to muzak versions of really bad jazz while cashiering endlessly. I would have to wear a Hot Dog on a Stick uniform, and every customer would be buying really sharp objects like porcupines and bits of broken glass. There wouldn’t be a bar code on anything, and whenever the line got down to one person a hundred more people would come up at once and start yelling at me to speed up. What would your hell be like? [ Update : One more thing that would happen is everyone would copy me . Just kidding, Jer.]
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