The New Meme in Town

Via McGehee comes this colorful little quiz conceived by Frank J.

THE "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" BLOGGER QUIZ

1. Who the hell do you think you are?

Joy McCann, aka Little Miss Attila (or Attila Girl). And I don't just think it: I'm absolutely positive. I just checked my own I.D.

2. So, other than blogging, what's your job? Do you work at some fast food joint, dumbass?

Writing, editing, fact-checking, assisting with marketing campaigns, fixing up and maintaining houses, including mine. All kinds of stuff; I get bored easily, you see.

3. Do you have like any experience in journalism, idiot?

Magazines, yes. Newspapers, not since junior high.

4. Do you even read newspapers?

Those large thin slices of dead tree I remember from childhood? I had no idea they still made those. How quaint.

5. Do you watch any other news than FOX News propaganda, you ignorant fool?

On television? The television's downstairs. I watch it twice a week: once on Sunday nights with my husband (generally a movie), and once on Wednesday nights after T'ai Chi (I've become addicted to The West Wing).

6. I bet you're some moron talk radio listener too, huh?

The radio? That's in my car. I'll listen if there's nothing good on the classic rock stations. But I'm getting a satellite radio, courtesy of my husband, and then I'll never run out of good rock 'n' roll. Which is all I really ask from life.

7. So, do you get a fax from the GOP each day for what to say, you @#$% Republican parrot?

The fax machine is also downstairs. It's amazing how little those things get used these days: remember when that was the way to send documents?

8. Why do you and your blogger friends want to silence and fire everyone who disagrees with you, fascist?

I don't know. But there you have it. And why, given that, do I let them comment on my website? I'm really a bundle of contradictions, I guess.

9. Are you completely ignorant of other countries, or do you actually own a passport?

I've gone through two passports, and as time goes by the pictures on 'em seem to get worse. Why is that, do you suppose?

10. Have you even been to another country, you dumb hick?

Only Mexico and most of the Western European countries; nowhere of note. Can we talk again in 5-10 years? I hope to have substantial updates for you.

11. If you're so keen on the war, why haven't you signed up, chickenhawk?

Because they wouldn't take me: I'm 42, short, and have no specialized skills other than writing iambic pentameter verse. All four branches of the Armed Forces have assured me that there is no need for sonnets about the war. They promised to get back to me, though (exact wording: "don't call us; we'll call you"). So there's hope.

12. Do you have any idea of the horrors of war? Have you ever reached into a pile of goo that was your best friend's face?

Um. My face is in front of a skeletal structure called a "skull." So even if you shot it off, there would be lots of bone fragments in it. Therefore, it wouldn't qualify as "goo," exactly: there'd be some hard material in it, along with a good deal of connective tissue that would be semi-firm. I would imagine it would have a texture vaguely like a good Jell-o salad—the kind that has fruit cocktail added in. Then just throw in some bone fragments, and you're done: Attila's face salad. If you're daring, take that to your next potluck.

13. Have you ever reached into any pile of goo?

Well, that's my main complaint about adulthood: that, and having to maintain a checking account. One just isn't called upon to play with piles of goo very often. In stark contrast, I spent most of my childhood playing with goo of every imaginable consistency, from finger paints to various types of paper maiche, to Play-Doh and that interesting stuff made out of corn starch and water.

Can you get me some good goo? I'll pay.

14. Once again, who the hell do you think you are?!

Are you a Deep Purple fan, by any chance?