All right then, second tag... The culprit is Kyknoord, and I'm not sure which meme I'm supposed to... answer? do? execute? so... in a Christmas-miracle sort of spirit, I'll be... answering? doing? executing? both.
I know. I'm a pushover, let's leave it at that.
The dinner party - it's always the same quandary, isn't it. Who makes the list, who doesn't, and where are we sure to meet the best conditions for a successful evening. To be fair, before I even tried to draft a "serious" list of guests - blame an (extremely) early spring and the related raging hormones - I immediately thought of George Clooney (the guy just doesn't want to leave my mind, OK?), the entire cast of Prison Break (yeah OK, maybe not entire), Daniel Craig (minus a few pecs), Owen Wilson (minus Kate Hudson), John Cusack, the entire cast of Spooks (yeah OK, etc.), Jeff Goldblum (minus a few inches?), Robert Downey Jr., the entire cast of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" (yes, entire), and Jeremy Piven. Aaaand, that's 10.
We'd be holding it in City Hall, 'cause then it'd be easy to tie one of those fine specimens and me through the powers vested in whatever officer who happens to be on duty around the time I get there.
Alternatively, I was thinking of having the HR departments of London 2012, the French rugby world cup, Aaron Sorkin's production company, the Cannes Festival, Eurosport, and several subtitling agencies over for a good talk about the latter's blatant inadequacies and the former's crucial need to have me around. I believe that take-away Chinese is de rigueur in these kinds of meetings, so I guess we'd all convene at my place.
Now. Five things you probably didn't know about me.
1. I can kill a plant just by looking at it. (and forgetting to water it, but really, it amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?)
2. I love to play games. Not of the mind-fucking variety though, just, you know, games. And I'm a very gracious loser too, even though inside, I'm probably fantasizing about ripping your eyes out with my teeth.
3. I used to swim a lot. These days, just watching a swim meet gives me sore muscles.
4. Stairs scare me witless, especially on the way down. I can picture the fall, the broken legs and probably the bones sticking out the sheen.
5. And oh.my.god. everything else you already know.
Yeah, if you think that the Christmas miracle will extend to me tagging someone, you simply have got to stop believing in Santa.