Tag Archives: Merbear

Merbear’s Beatle Contest with Twilight, Beatles, and Baby Sun

I told you guys earlier about a contest where you could win a book personally touched by Merbear – or possibly licked, I’m not sure.  I should check that out cause it totally affects the value.  Anyhoo, it’s a Beatles book and you want to win it because WIN.

This book is chock full of info about the Beatles like why they chose the name "beatles" and not say "spiders" or "caterpillars".

This book is chock full of info about the Beatles like why they chose the name “beatles” and not say “spiders” or “caterpillars”.

I will give you guys a chance though you really don’t have one.  Not with this incredible entry.  Observe and be amazed.

I chose the song “Good Day Sunshine” cause that sounded easy challenging.  Here are the lyrics, and they are awesome, cause Beatles:

Good day sunshine,
Good day sunshine,
Good day sunshine.
I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I’ve got something I can laugh about,
I feel good, in a special way.
I’m in love and it’s a sunny day.

 

It is summer, and we are all on drugs, that's how we picked out swimsuits out la la

It is summer, and we are all on drugs, that’s how we picked our swimsuits out la la

Okay, so I was thinking, sunshine, good day.  What am I gonna do with THAT?  I mean, am I a wizard or what?  Then I realized – hey I could draw a sun.  Like totally.  And it mentions LOVE and no one emphasizes LOVE like those jerkwads on Twilight, and also, if there was sun, then Eddie would sparkle,which would be even better.  And then I would put the Beatles in the sun because if they can hang out with Lucy in the sky with diamonds, why not inside a blazing sun?

Ta-Da!

Ta-Da!

I know, it’s so impressive you can hardly tear your eyes away.  Note how I not only added sparkles and a giant flower, but there’s also a tiny yellow submarine.  GET IT?  I’m a gonna sit back now and bask in the awesomeness.  Good day, maybe sunshine, even if my car smelled like wet dog this morning.

Alice

Bad Poet’s Society

The other day I was reading some bad poetry.  In other words, like at least 80 percent of the poetry that’s out there right now.  See, while there are many people who think they can write prose that can’t; there seem to be even more people who are not poets and do not know it.  Prose and poetry aren’t the same.  Poetry is much, much harder – if you do it right.  I don’t, which I why I only write stupid poems.  Thing is, I do it on purpose and other people . . . don’t.

Now there are some awesome poets out there, like Merbear for instance, and several others.  Being a good poet does not disqualify you from being in the Society, though.  Even good poets can be bad.  All a person has to do to join is write the worst poetry they can.  Or if you’re like me, just write poetry.  For some ideas, I have collected a list of the most obnoxious (in my opinion) poetry faux pas.

1. Seuss-i-fying your poetry

thing one and thing two

I love Dr. Seuss.  But there’s only one  Dr. Seuss, and unless you are writing poetry for children, having it rhyme in a sing-song every other line sort of way makes your poetry sound juvenile no matter what your subject. For example:

I have a stalker

He is really strange

He follows me always

And has lots of mange

See?  Serious topic = stalking.  But I want to take that poem and add goofy drawings to it.  Like Marmaduke creepily staring in someone’s window or something.

This is not to say that you can’t rhyme in a poem.  One of my favorite poets, Edgar Allen Poe, does rhyme, but he has a flow to his poetry.  Real rhyming poetry is every beautiful song you’ve ever heard.  It has a melody.  Which leads me to example two.

2. Speed-bump poetry

speed bump ahead

Poetry needs to flow.  Even, actually especially, free verse poetry.  Since there’s no set line length, or rhyming, it’s up to you to figure out how to make the words flow together.  When reading a poem, I don’t like starting and stopping.  I call it speed bumps.  Each time the word doesn’t flow – there are way too many syllables, or the word somehow doesn’t fit, or the poem loses focus – I feel a bump.  I’m shaken out of the reverie.  An example:

She’s like the wind

Through a forest of tall tall trees

She rides the night train to Georgia

Next to Runaround Sue

Bump, Bump, BUUUUUMP

3. Emo  Poetry

Not Elmo, emo.  Though both are equally obnoxious.

Not Elmo, emo. Though both are equally obnoxious.

There’s only so much angst over that girl from high school that done did you wrong we can take.  Keep it up and you’ll sound like a Taylor Swift song, and no one wants that.

4. Twisty-straw Poetry

Hey

      Hey

You

        You

                 Get

Into

                          My Car

Who me?

Hey, that was LYRICAL POETRY, man!

Hey, that was LYRICAL POETRY, man!

It’s still a dumb song even when I make cute connect-the-dots pictures with it.

 

5. Pick a style, any style poetry

Boppo can't pick a style - look what happened to him.

Boppo can’t pick a style – look what happened to him.

Whatever you choose to do, just stick with it.  If you want Seuss, do Seuss.  If you want speed-bump, throw out the speed bumps.  But please don’t combine a half dozen styles in a single poem.

Dashing through the snow

On a one-horse reindeer whatever

Over

        the hills

                          we go

Laughing all the way until we’re shot on sight

By that girl who’s like the wind

In the trees.

I’m sure you can name lots of other problem poetry.  Let me know in the comments, or write your own bad poetry post.  I’ll link to it and maybe we can make a horrible poetry book. We could call it Twilight Sexy Times Poetry Suck.  It would be a bestseller for sure.  Or I’ll just do it myself and rake in all the profits.

I’m also thinking of designing a badge.  You know for me and my followers, or possibly just for me and all the invisible flying elves.  What do you think should be the badge for a Bad Poet’s Society?

My Morning on Facebook

My friends Twindaddy and Merbear and I often have Facebook conversations in the morning because we are productive that way.  These conversations tend to go off on tangents.  I thought I’d give a brief rundown of our topics so you can know how insane we all are.

Topic One: Racist Bread

This all started with the innocent mention of a sandwich on white bread and devolved from there.  News flash: Wonderbread is Aryan.  Rye, Wheat, Italian, French, Potato – no bread was safe from our discussion.

Once you go pumpernickel, you never go back.

Once you go pumpernickel, you never go back.

Topic Two: Holy Roller Movies

“God is Not Dead” is in theaters, but surprisingly does not star Kirk Cameron, who used to be cute and in Tiger Beat but is now a pscyho fundamentalist who talks about bananas.  Kevin Sorbo, who played Hercules, DOES star in the movie, as a professor.  The professor in Gilligan’s island was kind of cute, but Gilligan was not.  Twindaddy disappeared during this conversation so we wondered if we smelled which led to . . .

Topic Three: Deodorant

We discussed our brands of Deodorant, (I wear Lady Mitchum but Merbear is all Secret about hers) and I found this charming retro ad.

beautiful but dumb

Dumb lady does not know she smells. Like your beauty will save you over your B.O.!

And we wondered why men were not so concerned about underarm b.o, and twindaddy said he was concerned, so I found this other ad.

For the man who wants to smell like kitchen cleanser.

For the man who wants to smell like kitchen cleanser.

We’ve decided that Twindaddy should use this stuff.  Women will think he’s concealing 7-up under his pits and go wild.

Topic Four: Alice needs a post

And I had this bright idea!  Don’t like it?  Well, smell me.

Alice

 

Hello codeine, my old friend

I am sick.  Bronchitis.  I think.  I’m not actually sure.  I went to that doctor place (If you will recall last fall I wrote all about it and included instructions on how to make your own yurt out of the paper they put on the examining tables.  You’re welcome.) and the sort-of doctor (they call them nurse practitioners) listened to my chest.  I informed him that my chest always sounds good when I have pneumonia like I did last fall.  He prescribed me antibiotics and had a nurse give me two shots – one in each cheek.  Not my face cheeks.

At the SAME TIME, several states away, my psychic twin, Merbear, experienced tingling in her bum cheeks.  Coincidence?  I think not.  If we can just get our evidence together, we are totally going to get a spot in a Time Life book, provided they ever make one again.

We will be famous!

We will be famous!

Anyway, he didn’t feel the need to tell me what was wrong and I didn’t feel the need to ask.  Meds.  Woot.  The promise of lifting the brick off my chest.  I liked that idea.  I’m not sure why I keep getting sick.  It could be the asthma and allergies and the fact that I am allergic to the entire planet.  Or that thick layer of dust that lays on my blinds.  And my chest of drawers.  And the entertainment center.  And the floor.  I looked at that a lot while I was lying in bed and pondered this.  Then I went to sleep.

I missed some work, but now I am back and fit as a fiddle, which really isn’t fit if you think about it.  A fiddle is kinda pear shaped, which is better than apple shaped, but still not exactly model potential here.  I think you’d need a flute for that.  But I’m here.  I slept relatively well thanks to codeine which was brought to me by Jeremiah the bullfrog.  I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink the cough syrup.

Thank you,  Jeremiah.  You are a great friend of mine.

Thank you, Jeremiah. You are a great friend of mine.

What was I saying?  Yes.  I am at work.  I am here.  I think.  A student walked in and out and later my boss asked if he was here and I was like, um, yes.  I mean no.  Wait – who?  Did I imagine him?  Possible.  I’m going to go with yes.  I said yes.  I am slowly sliding out of my chair.

Earlier I tried to print something.  I sent one page to the printer.  I thought I did. Instead the printer decided to print the entire document, which is a very large document, so I said “Stop it,” and smacked the cancel button.  After spitting out three more pages, it stopped.  Good.  So I tried sending the one page again.  And it started printing the entire document.  Again.  So I started smacking the cancel key, again, and this time I was really getting personal.  “Stop it! Stop itttttt!  Now, now, now, you stupid printer!”  And it stopped, because it ran out of paper.  So I put more in.  And then it started up again, spitting out the entire document, only this time starting all over again at the beginning.

I bet those guys were behind the printer malfunction.  You saw them too, right?  Right?

I bet those guys were behind the printer malfunction. You saw them too, right? Right?

I hit cancel again and turned it off, and then on.  That solves everything.  I hit enter, and guess what it did?  If you guessed tried to print the entire document again, you win!  I mashed the button, and said some more choice words, and might have done a little dance of Anger.  At some point, it finally decided to print out just one page, the page I wanted in the first place.  And then I realized I really only needed to just write down one sentence from that page and it would have been fine.  This whole time my boss had been watching me.  I’m not sure if I was entertaining her, or if she was just too nervous to intervene.

I might not be ready for work.  My head feels like it is filled with cotton.  I keep sliding out of my chair.  I stare at the screen and see tiny pixels dance across it.  I swear the codeine had to have worn off by now.  Where am I?  I don’t even remember driving here exactly.  Soon I will go downstairs and serve coffee in the library coffee shop.  Why?  I don’t know.  That doesn’t make sense when I’m well.  I am certain they will appreciate the extra cough with the coffee.  Do you get it?  I don’t either.

It is 10:45 AM.  I only have to make it till 5 PM.  What time is it now?

I am at work.  It counts.

I am at work. It counts.

Alice and Merbear’s State of the Hoo-Ha Address

https://i2.wp.com/tigerbeatdown.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/1950s-lysol1.jpg

Merbear: No, Mildred, you smell like fish…stop!

Alice:  holy hell that would have to sting wouldn’t it?

Merbear: Um…ouch…That means it is working.  Feel the burn.

Alice: cleans the canal in the presence of mucus? Oh eww.  wtf kind of mucus matter she got goin’ on there.

Merbear: I think I just barfed in my mouth a bit.  Soda and salt?  In your woo hoo?

Alice: seems an odd place to put it. Now butter I get.

Merbear:  Now, don’t forget to douche with Lysol, says doctor never.  My doctor told me not to douche, actually.

Alice: heck with the douche, I’ll just spray the can up there.

Merbear: I am full of inhibitions baby! Oh yeah, smell me!

Alice:  actually, we tried that once at the library on a bunch of nasty videos and it was not good. Smelled like funk AND lysol.

Merbear: Funky junky.

Alice: I like how her ghost is all freaked out – but wait, your hoo-ha! Don’t let him touch your hoo-ha!

Merbear: Did you notice she has her hand upon her breast?  Like, alas I am so horny.

Alice: well, someone’s gotta get her going – I’m guessing it won’t be him. He’s half done.

Merbear: Yeah, that is a pre ejaculation face if I have ever seen one.

Alice: Let’s hope he killed his germ life too.

Merbear: But Alice, men can’t douche!  They suffer from other manlike issues.

Alice: But how will they insure their daintiness? Oh, right.

Merbear: Have no idea what they do, but those things don’t get hairless themselves.

Alice: True. Hey, no greasy aftereffect! That’s a relief.

Merbear: No, just broken skin.  A bit of inflamed tissue.

Alice: good thing it’s not caustic.

Merbear: I use Lysol to kill poop.

Alice: Speaking of, remember that time I had the hoo-ha issue and then I developed a split personality and started robbing convenience stores?

Merbear: Yes, those were troubling times in Wonderland.

Alice: I’m sure it’s in one of those posts way back when. I was so full of doubts and inhibitions before I started shooting disinfectants up my va-jay-jay.

Merbear:  It IS preferred 3 to 1.

Alice: But by who? The woman? The man? You know maybe that’s why my ex dumped me – I never douched with Lysol. Damn.

Merbear:  Well, go out an get a bottle, and when you are done you can disinfect your toilet.  never neglect your lady bits.

Alice: Right. You should check those parts out daily. Play around. Make sure they’re functioning jussst right. Maybe try a brush.

Merbear: I would so not use that brush after searing my insides with Lysol.

Alice: No pain, no gain. You have to be there for your husband, Mer.

Merbear: Ah, you are right. He deserves a fresh lemon scented koochie.

Alice: I wonder if pine sol would work in a pinch. Do I want my koochie to smell like a pine forest?

Merbear:  Maybe there will be a unicorn sighting.  Perhaps fresh picked cotton..

Alice: jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton!

Merbear: House of Pain. Poor Mildred and her hoohaa.  Ghostly Mildred just didn’t have enough energy to fully manifest.

Alice: Yeah, but is it Mildred or ghost Mildred with the smelly um what word have we not used for vagina yet?

Mildred: I have bypassed a few, but I don’t think we used the holiest of holes.

Alice: Ah, that’s a good one

Merbear: Tinker either.

Alice:  I wonder why she’s groping her breast. I mean, she really is.

Merbear: She likes boobs.  Looks like Darren is not disturbed at all.  They need names.

Alice: Yeah, I’m thinking he’s not taking time for a whiff when investigating her “down there.”  Darren works well. He could be like three or four people at least.

Merbear: I mean, this seems to have been an awful scary plight for these woman, am I offensive, are the dishes clean, where are the kids.  I mean, who needs that shit?

Alice: Kids . . . kids, eh. We’ll make new ones honey!  Which is more disturbing a fishy smell or LEMON BLAST?

Merbear: Lemon fresh Mound of venus?

Alice: No, her flower. He put his stem in her pollen

Merbear: My husband said Venus Mantrap.

Alice: ooh that’s a good one. Will have to look up romance books. They have all the good terms.

Hey, once I accidentally sprayed my hair with lysol. True story. It was by the hairspray.

Merbear: Did it make things stiff?

Alice: It wasn’t stiff. I sure did smell weird, though. People were like, sniff, what IS that?

Merbear: You smell so germ free!

Alice:  My brother laughed hysterically. I was still a teenager.

Merbear: I would have laughed myself and then sprayed myself too so you didnt feel alone.

Lemony fresh Wonder Twins!

Alice: Wonder Twins activate – with Lysol!  You know, other me has been cheating with my husband and I was mad but then I realized I could go watch TV in peace.  God I’m glad I didn’t live back then – what year is that ad?

Merbear:  its 1950’s

Alice: ah well of course. How did these women survive? Listerine on your head, up your hoo-ha, lysol all over the place. Honey, what are you doing with the cleaning products OMG

Merbear: I know, how fucked up is that?  yet, also cost effective.

Alice: suddenly I’m thinking of those swiffer commercials. like the bowling ball falling in love with the broom. Just wtf.

Merbear: bleach is sexy.

Alice: does that mean the woman was having an affair with the broom before? Cause it says don’t worry he wont’ be alone . . .maybe she saw Mr. Clean in the floor and got all excited . . .took advantage of that poor broom

Merbear: OMG HOT!

Alice: Erotic kitchen fiction

Merbear: Oh, write some!

Alice: After 50 Shades, anything is possible.

Merbear and Alice get Stimulated!

Hey, readers, I’ve got something special today.  Merbear from Knocked Over By a Feather and I teamed up to discuss this fascinating ad from the 40s that’s about . . . a brush?  You decide.  And head on over to her blog to see more of these hilarious ads deconstructed!

http://www.retro-ads.net/v/1940s/Grooming/Women/1949_Stimulator.jpg.html

1949 Stimulator Ad

Alice: it’s a stimulator – and the brand is named prophylactic?

Merbear: my favorite line…makes 100 strokes a pleasure.    that is fucked up yo.

Alice:    what the fuck is she doing with that brush???

Merbear:  hmm…i think the rigid package tells us exactly what, indeed

I thought it was a vibrator at first

Alice:  It might just be one. I know I don’t get that happy from a brush

Merbear:  no…not usually..not enough to sing a song about it

Alice:    penetrates hair . . . oh lord

Merbear:    it writes itself, really..all the good ones do!

Alice: I wonder which end you use – I mean the bristles massage but that might get uncomfy

Merbear:    I think it is one of those multi use brushes    one end brushes the other side penetrates

Alice:  I do need to recondition my va-jay-jay

Merbear:  It is also good for getting snarls out of your pubes

Alice:    yes, they are wonderful for scalp massage . . . (dramatic pause) er, uh, so gentle.  Yeah, yeah scalp, gentle on the scalp.

Merbear:    scalp, of course… brings out all the luster

Alice:    it’s a beautifully molded package, hahaha

Merbear:  rigid, don’t forget..that is very important

Alice:    I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair, and then I’ll use this brush!

Merbear    Who needs a man when you have a stimulator?    I personally love a hollow handle

Alice:    there ain’t nothin like a brushhhh, nothin’ in the worlllld!

Merbear:    sing it girlfriend!!

Alice:   I still can’t believe the company name, oh my god

Merbear: i wonder of they made condoms too? wtf is Mary Martin?

Alice:   lol, she was in South Pacific – it says above the ad. I think she also played Peter Pan?

Merbear:    oh, I thought she looked familiar..I didn’t recognize her without the green tights

Alice:  When cross dressing, always bring your brush.

Merbear:    hey, the bitch doesn’t even have hair!

Alice:    Yeah, so how does she know how good that brush is . . . ohhhh

Merbear:    Um, perhaps they should have gotten Marilyn Monroe to model this thing  or someone from that generation.  You know, someone who has hair would be helpful.

Alice:    Brushes are a girl’s best friend

Merbear:  You said it, sister!

Alice:    Yeah, I don’t think she’s using it on her head.

Merbear:    I feel bad now, that lady is probably dead.

Alice:    yeah but she was all famous and shit so it’s cool.

Merbear.    Yeah, I am sure she wouldn’t mind.  She had her day in the sun.

Alice:    Was it a brush related death? Going to hell now, I am.

Merbear:    I bet she got it stuck.

Alice:    THAT would be an embarrassing ER trip

Merbear:    Had a mind of it’s own one day and bzzzzzzz….

Alice:    I sat on it doc I SWEAR

Merbear:    Nurse, quick, get the forceps…

The Longest Tag EVER

So, like, a bunch of WordPress people (adults supposedly) are playing tag and I just got tagged. Not freeze tagged, tagged where I’m now doomed to find someone else to tag in order to rid myself of the blog cooties. Or something.

I could ignore it, but I’m about ready to shoot up some technology, so I might as well take a nice little break before my RAGE costs a goodly portion of my paycheck. So anyways, it was twindaddy again (quit stalking me! Unless this is really Blunt Life Coach in which case – I knew you loved me all the time!) and he was tagged by Merbear. I wasn’t aware there was such a thing, but I guess if you’ve got sea cows you can have Merbears. I bet there is a special in the works on Animal Planet or Discovery.

Okay, so tag is about answering questions and linking?  WTF?

Okay, so tag is about answering questions and linking? WTF?

Okay so rules (I wish I could just run and smack him back like in first grade. So much easier.)

1. Post these rules.
2. Post a photo of yourself and eleven random facts about you.
3. Answer the questions given to you in the tagger’s post.
4. Create eleven new questions and tag new people to answer them.
5. Go to their blog/Twitter and let them know they’ve been tagged.

A photo of mwah? Sure.

Alice right about now.

Alice right about now.

11 facts about me?  A-gain?  What don’t you know? What would you like to know? 

1. My favorite antiperspirant is Mitchum.  I find it has the best flavor.

2 . I love watching that show “Monsters Inside Me” because it freaks me the heck out; but you know, I want to be prepared.

3. I suck at technology.  Either that or my computer is currently possessed by Satan.

4. I read all the Twilight books AND all the 50 Shades books because I . . . why?  Why did I do that?

5. I know people hate award posts, but I don’t have any other ideas so it’s an award post and what else was I going to do hurt feelings, huh?  Huh?

6. I’m pretty sure I have the plague and Rat Bite Fever.  (see number 2)

7. I have cavities. Damn those Cavity Creeps!

8. I almost never have any idea what I’m talking about.  (surprise!)

9. Did I mention the computer possession?  My disks have got it too.  Maybe THEY have Rat Bite Fever.

10. My name isn’t really Alice, but my real name does come from a classic book.

11. I like saying “eleventy billion” and “sadfaced” and other made up words and writing really long run on sentences because I’m a terrible English major.

You realize they've all left now, Alice.

You realize they’ve all left now, Alice.

Now I’m supposed to answer questions from twindaddy.  Is anyone still reading?  See if I care.  Go check out someone’s interesting blog but you’ll be SORRY.

  1. If you were a super hero, what would your super power be?  Blowing up stuff with the power of my mind.  It’s probably a good thing I don’t really have that.
  2. You don’t like your name (if you do, pretend that you don’t).  What do you change it to? Pocahontas
  3. Debbie leaves Cincinnati at 5PM and travels an average speed of 62mph.  Triton (where did that name come from?) leaves Dayton at 4:47PM and travels at an average speed of 87mph.  They head towards each other.  At what point do you give a fuck about any of this?  BONUS Question: How long until Triton gets arrested for reckless driving? Triton is a water god dude from Greek Mythology – or Ariel the mermaid’s dad.  Not sure how he’s driving at all with that tail.  At no point do I give a fuck about this.
  4. Coffee gets me high and keeps me awake at work on most days.  Do you have such an addiction?  If so, what is it? Cola.  Cola, cola, colaaaaaa.  
  5. I truly believe we are all broken in some way or another.  What is your biggest defect? Defect?  No one has made me the Queen of the Internetz yet, that’s the defect.  Or possibly it might be using humor as a self defense mechanism.  Nah.
  6. Conversely, we all have one thing we are extremely talented at.  What is your best attribute? I’m extremely talented at doing absolutely nothing.  Also some people like my writing and drawing.  You don’t?  Well get lost!
  7. If you were like Pinocchio, but could choose which body part would get bigger with every lie you told, which body part would it be? Clearly asked by a man.  I would choose to make parts smaller, not larger. 
  8. You find an empty box on the floor of your office.  What was in it? Crap.  Or, um, archival material I mean.
  9. You just walked into Starbucks.  What do you order? A pastry.  I hate coffee, even fru fru coffee.
  10. Do you read (besides blogs)?  If so, what type of reading to you enjoy?  Alice no read.  Alice read 50 Shades and brain no worky.  Actually, I usually like reading non-fiction but lately my attention span is so shot that blog entries and magazine articles from Cosmo are about the limit of my intellectual ability.
  11. If you could guest post on any blog, what blog would it be? Oooh, oooh, does the Pope have a blog?  Cause that would be pretty sweet.  Otherwise – I’d like to guest post on any of my peep’s blogs. 

That’s all fol . . . that’s NOT all?  I’m supposed to ask more questions?  WTF kind of tag is this?  By this point you realize I could be on the other side of the playground, right?  Okay, FINE, but you will be sorry.

"Tag.  Come on, play.  TAG!"

“Tag. Come on, play. TAG!”

1. Why do you blog?  Why do any of us do this?  Why?

2. Are you hungry?

3. Is this eleven questions yet?

4. Is anyone still reading?

5. Does my butt look big on this blog?

6. Just how bored are you?

7. How long can you hold your breath?  No reason.  Just curious.  Don’t look behind you.

8. Can you poop rainbows?  If so, we must meet.

9. Are you STILL reading?  You really are bored.

10. Is there a monster at the end of this post?

11. Does anyone know what I should write about?  That would like, be actually good?  Or mildly entertaining?  Or stupid and gross but kind of funny?

And the nominees are . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

And the nominees are . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

And now for the nominations, for anyone who got this far.

twindaddy (serves you right)

Miss Four Eyes (if you don’t answer, Sad Pony will get even sadder.  Squirrel will simply die.  Think on it.)

List of X (I want to see him come up with 10 reasons not to respond to this tag)

Rutabaga the Mercenary Researcher (I really want to know if she can poop rainbows. That’s a great skill in a librarian.)

Revis (as brother to twindaddy, you are automatically responsible too.  It says so in the Bible.)

Faithhopechocolate (speaking of Bibles, faith, you’re it.)

Not Quite Alice (Another Alice is Always Acceptable and Alliterative)

Animockery (good artist and fellow geek)

braith an’ lithe (she’s a yogi – she can probably twist her way out of this tag)

Doggy’s Style (Run, doggie, run!)

She’s a Maineiac (Looks cool drinking coffee)

So there you go, our nominees.  Yay.  Now remember, you must pass this award on or ALL THE PUPPIES WILL DIE.  Have a nice day!

Alice