TMI Questions - Classic Edition:
Decisive is one thing I am not. If you know me at all, then you would know that I can rarely make a choice on my own. Typically, I have to have other people weigh in on the situation before picking something.
Sometimes that works to my advantage.
But usually? It’s merely annoying for others.
See, building towards a consensus sort of leaves one liability free, as in, you’re not responsible for the outcome.
Therefore, even when choosing a restaurant, I can be horribly wishy washy, not wanting to be on the hook for another person’s disappointment.
However, for today’s TMI Questions, Sean, its founder and creator, made it explicit that we are not to duck any of the questions, so, for better or worse, here are mine:
Questions designed to reveal Too Much Information
TMI Questions - Classic Edition: Sophie’s Choice
Save your daughter or son or all three of you will die?
Oh, my, so dramatic!
And such a difficult, awful question.
Fortunately (for them), I don’t have any human children (that I know of), so this question doesn’t really apply to me.
But, for the sake of this post, let’s say you asked me to choose between my three current dogs.
Of course, optimum choice is that I would die so they all could live, but I couldn’t do that because they can’t take care of themselves at all. I mean, it’s all I can do to get them to clean up their rooms once in a while, pick up the living room, or take out the trash. They would be lost without me.
They don’t even know how to make macaroni and cheese!
Atula, my eldest, has outlived the typical lifespan for his breed. He also has a number of health issues including painful arthritis, total hearing loss, and the gradual loss of sight. While it would pain me, he would be the first one I let go of. It would make me sad, but I know he’s had a good life these past couple of years, so I could let him go.
That leaves Hercules and Millie, both aged six.
At 4.5 lbs., Millie is my little princess, a dancing queen who, after surviving a horrible first couple of years at the hands of people who should never own a dog, is totally blind among other things. She is incredibly attached to me and lights up the moment I step foot inside the house. I would never let anything happen to her.
Which leaves Hercules - also very attached to me. He is blind in one eye (someone shoved a pencil in there) and not so smart because he got hit on the head a lot as a pup (he has the scars to show for it). He’s my little football player – a real dog’s dog, and a friendly, happy guy. His heart is as big as his understanding of the world around him is small. I could never let anything happen to him.
This is too hard.
Oh, all right…
I’d save Millie.
But wait… how do they die? If it isn’t humane and like going to sleep, then I say we all take our chances and die together.
Your arm or your leg?
Easy. I would save my arm.
I love to write and to write I need arms, hands, and fingers. Others may be able to do it without, but I am easily frustrated and would give up before learning how.
Plus, I could still play the piano.
I would miss dancing, running, hiking, biking, and wrapping my legs around my boyfriend.
I would not miss doing lunges or squats.
(My penis would still work, right?)
Yep, I would save my arm.
Sight, hearing or speech?
I could do without talking. I don’t like to talk much anyway. And when I do, I tend to talk too much and say little of any substance. There are other ways to communicate. Better ways.
I would miss music. I would miss the sound of my boyfriend’s heart as my head lies on his chest. I would always feel like I was missing out on something, but I could do without hearing.
But I could not do without sight.
Art. Nature. Faces.
I’ve been an observer all my life and without sight I could not see and therefore could not critique, relate, or interpret things.
I could learn braille, but I have a feeling I would get frustrated very quickly and go sit in a corner somewhere, pouting.
Without sight, the only other place I would want to sit is at my piano.
I love typing. I love visual things. I could never do without such things, so I would save my sight.
Taste or to physically feel anything (pleasure, pain, touch)?
I can’t imagine.
I know what it’s like to be emotionally numb, so I guess I would rather feel than taste.
Don’t get me wrong… I love food. Live for it.
But I would never want to go without feeling another person’s touch, or be unable to react to something, or to express my feelings – which, of course, one would have to be able to feel in order to express.
That is when words would become nothing more than letters on a page.
And that is a loss I don’t think I could bear.
On your smart phone: text, data or call?
I hate talking on the phone.
I prefer my laptop to my phone for data.
Texting is my primary form of communication these days. It saves time. I also don’t have to put up with other people’s inability to stay on topic. There are a lot of time-wasters out there, and I know you don’t know who you are, but, trust me… two minutes into our first conversation; I will have you pegged as one.
Save your charming ways for someone else. I want the basics. Short sentences with periods in place. Answer only the question asked. Get to the point right out of the gate. Stay on topic.
All of that happens when you text with someone because typing on that tiny key pad is frustrating and time consuming, so people tend to get to the point quickly and succinctly.
Love of your life but life on welfare or no love and live in the top 40%?
Give me love.
Poor never bothered me, anyway. Been there. Bringing home $75 a week. That was retail in the 80’s, babykins. And I didn’t know any better. What’s healthcare? A mortgage? Food?
I can live without much of a high life, but I cannot live without love.
That would be like asking me which of my dogs I could do without, or whether I would rather live without my arms or my legs, or….
So, honestly, and I can say this only because life recently revealed to me what I was living without: a life without love can cost you big time, only not in the way you think.
And money ain’t gonna make up the difference, hon.
It’s like that horribly drippy line from ‘Steel Magnolias’, “I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.”
Money is nothing special, kids.
The Kim Kardashian’s of the world can get money. The Koch Brothers of the world can have money.
But they don’t know love.
And their actions and priorities tend to make my case for me.
Who do you save: Kennedy, King or Milk?
Martin Luther King.
Worth more to us alive than dead. He may have eventually disappointed us as a human being, in small ways, but as an activist and leader he was the guy. Smart. Insightful. Eloquent. Wise. I think we would be living in an entirely different country had he lived.
Harvey is a great icon, and his assassination was a terrible tragedy, but, had he lived, there were limits to what he was going to be able to accomplish during that time in history. Better that he died that way and lived on to become a lightning rod for gay activism than die of AIDS – which is something that might very well have happened to him.
Kennedy? He had some great ideas. Great vision. But he was a deeply flawed, entitled, self-absorbed person whose issues would have eventually come to light and destroyed this country. All one has to do is look at the effect that Watergate had on this country’s relationship to our politicos – how we feel about them, the loss of respect – and you can understand what kind of impact a less-than-perfect Camelot would have had on the American people. And at that time in history, I don’t think this country could have withstood it, what with our irrational fear of communism, the prevalence of racial inequality, and the oppression of women still so rampant and seething.
So, better that Camelot was preserved and (most of) the Kennedy mystique remained in place for as long as it did.
But Martin Luther King?
Man, the universe really let us down with that one.
You can only cure one: One kind of Cancer, AIDS or Heart Disease?
No doubt about it.
That is one biological scourge I would like to see wiped off the face of the earth.
But I’m a realist.
Oh, I have a feeling it is possible, but as long as it is more financially beneficial to treat and prevent, the likelihood of having a cure?
And damn them, for that.
Read only one: magazines, newspapers or books?
Big, moldy-smelling, too small print, grab a dictionary, buy them used, books.
I love them. The way they feel. Their weight. The cover illustrations. The dedication page. The index. I love it all.
I would never want to do away with them.
They look too damn good sitting on that shelf.
And owning a bunch of them makes me, at least, appear smarter.
Sex of any kind (bad to great to wilder to j.o.) or the internet?
For pretty much the same reason I would choose love over money.
I can’t imagine living without deep passionate kisses.
Nothing beats flesh on flesh real time action.
Though I would miss blogging and my fellow bloggers.
And videos of cats doing crazy stuff.
(Ha, ha, ha… look at those silly cats. They think they’re people!)
Wonderland Burlesque’s Turdscooters of the Week, Part Two:
Minnesota’s Michele Bachmann
What a special little turdscooter you are.
You hold a special place in my jaundiced heart, where I wish upon you things that I know I should not wish on anyone, for in doing so I wish them upon myself. Still, your brand of bat shit crazy evil inspires such thoughts and I find myself, time and again, powerless to do otherwise.
Last week, on the conservative radio show ‘Faith & Liberty’ (Who listens to this junk?), Michele, as is her way, made up more stuff about the GLBT community. Her latest lie goes like this:
“They want to abolish age of consent laws, which means children would…we would do away with statutory rape laws so that adults will be able to freely prey on little children sexually. That’s the deviance that we’re seeing embraced in our culture today.”
Hmmm. I’ve been gay quite a while now, and I cannot recall any gay Log Cabin Republicans, or gay Democrats, or, even, gay Green Party folk advocating for any such thing. So, enlighten us with some facts, Michele: pinpoint that specific piece of legislation introduced by gay folks that demand the right to rape children. Please, do, because if there are any gays out there wanting such a thing, I would like to know about it – so I can wish upon them the very same things I frequently find myself, although I know better, wishing upon your tiny demonic soul.
You see, Michele, you’ve once again, confused gay people with pedophiles – a nasty little habit of yours that makes even the kindest hearted of gay people wish upon you terrible, despicable acts. And trust me, they do; terrible, terrible things.
Now, I realize that you do this because you are not a very bright human being, for you are someone who is poorly educated and born without the common sense of a rotted tree stump.
I know that you say these things because there isn’t anything at all objectionable about the majority of gay folk, who mow their lawns, go to church, and pay their taxes, just like you do (Well, you? Taxes? Not so much.), so you have to make stuff up in order to ensure you extend your fifteen minutes in the national spotlight. In that way, you are sort of a parasite, Michele. Without gay folk, you would cease to exist. Not a bad thing, really, and one of the many things I have a habit of wishing upon you.
Now, I ‘get it’: that you say the things you do about gay people because you married a gay man and even though he denies his true nature and allows you to force your body upon his once a month as marked on your ‘special time’ calendar, the fact that he is gay drives you to the utter brink of insanity.
And deep in my heart, I know that you, like ‘Family Guy’s’ Peter Griffin, if forced to take a standardized test would be revealed to be… ummm, to put it politely… ‘challenged’.
But that is no excuse, woman. None of that excuses the ignorant crap the spews from your rancid, cancerous, lipsticked pie hole.
Michele is also upset with the Supreme Court for its decision in 2013 to strike down the federal ban on same-sex marriage, terming it a “denial of equal protection for all Americans”, a bit of logic that only makes sense in Michele’s homophobic, backwards, illiterate mind. I mean, yes, technically, they are words strung in a sentence, but…
“This is a revolution that we are encountering now. For all of the thousands of years of recorded human history, about 5,000 years, there is no instance of any culture, nation or tribe ever having as the established standard for marriage anything other than between man and woman. It may have been multiple women and a man, it may have been something like that, but it was always between men and women.”
Which means, Michele is okay with those ‘Sister Wives’ people, but not two men or two women in a committed, loving, monogamous relationship where they mow their lawns, go to church, and pay taxes.
You would think that would mean that ‘Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em’ Bachmann, is woman enough to own up to her hate-baiting ways, but, no, for she insists, less you think for one moment that she is not a good Christian woman, that her only desire is to, “spread goodness and joy and wholeness and healing … through a loving God with a message that frees people.”
Yeah, Michele, I got a middle finger that you can free anytime you want.
The only comfort that I take in relationship to you, Michele, is that you do not have a chance in hell of ever holding public office anywhere outside of that mecca of social dysfunction known as Anoka County, or, if the world has an ounce of self-worth, perhaps ever again.
The other thing I am sure of? That you are too far out there and ignorant for even the likes of Fox News, so there isn’t any chance of you gaining a glamorous national media pulpit unless you start up your own cable network, just as your sister in soul crimes, Sarah Palin, did this week.
I can’t wait to live in a world where there is no ‘Michele Bachmann’ news, no matter how cringe-inducingly entertaining the garbage that foams forth from your misinformed mouth.
So, dear readers, please, free your middle finger and join me as we give Michele the ‘Turdscooter of the Week’ salute, she so richly deserves.
Michele, honey? Give it up. Desperation is so unattractive.
Close your pie hole once and for all and fade from the national spotlight forever so good people, like yours truly won’t be tempted to wish upon you unspeakable, ghastly, gory vile (and, yet, oh-so justified) things.
Oh, and pick up a history book, or read a scientific journal. Those things exist for a reason, you know.
The world has evolved quite a bit since you went to Bible College, fool.
BTW: I plan on writing an ‘Evita’ –style musical about you someday. Because you are tragic… in a totally different way.