I'll be answering your questions and dares every day so without further ado, here are the next three comments I randomly chose.
Parsley wants to know:
If you could play this game of 'truth' with *insert political leader name here*, what would you ask?
Well, Parsley, I would ask George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin if it hurts to roll over in their graves. The end.
My question is how did you come up with this idea to choose a giveaway winner?
It just seemed like such an obvious choice to me, which says more about me than most people probably care to know. I remember watching a similar contest as a kid. Only that time it involved a cow in a portable pen, with the grid painted on the very pavement the poor, pooping cow was penned up on. Say that ten times really fast. Anyway, that memory made me wonder where this whole nonsense of winning by poop proxy came about so I turned to the Internet. Imagine my surprise when I found this news item: Cow Poop Bingo in Switzerland. I didn’t even read the story because my brain figured it all out on the spot. My grandparents came from Switzerland. This whole manure fascination must be a genetic thing with me. Either that or I just have way too much free time on my hands.
luckydame had a very interesting and thought-provoking question:
Your house is being attacked my Martians....what 3 things do you grab as you are fleeing their laser beams?
Well, my first thought was, “Do I really want to flee their laser beams?” Think about it lucky dame. We are talking free laser surgery if you run in the right pattern. I could have a few pounds whacked off the backend as I am running south, then do an about face for my facial peel. Just a thought.
Ok, so if I had to pick three things to grab before fleeing the Martians, those items would be:
The love letters my parents wrote to one another during World War II. Those puppies are full of incriminating stuff I could never dare to part with. We’re talking possible book material here. The second item would be our photo albums. I have a bazillion of them and must hang on to them forever. Why? Because they prove I was thin once and that my sisters don’t always look good. Oh, I have pictures, believe me. Finally, I would grab my husband because after all, if Martians are attacking we may end up the last two people on earth and it would be our responsibility to see that life continues. There is that missing uterus thing but I may have a new one lasered in while I’m on the run.