Go to Wikipedia (http://www.wikipedia.org/). Type in your birth date (but not year). List three events that happened on your birthday. List two important birthdays and one interesting death. Post this in your journal.
So maybe I’m too paranoid about identity theft to use my real birthday for this one. (And yet, anyone who wants to steal my identity need only read this blog. They’ll have a hard time copying my hairy insteps, naturally.) So let’s just say that I used someone’s birthday to generate the necessary responses. Here goes.
Three events:
Two important birthdays:
And one interesting death:
I tag: anyone else who is struggling to come up with a Friday topic.
D.
That looks fun–but I’ll probably end up doing it on a Saturday.
In the meantime, I blame you for this (g):
Doug has singlehandedly ruined my image as a fine, cultured, upstanding individual.
Maybe it’s not ALLLLLLL Doug’s fault.
Oh, no. It’s all my fault. And I just made your life much worse 😉
Thanks, dude.
Because, you know, my references to long, hard, stallion cocks aren’t likely to have any effect over here either.
Suisan, you forget: I’m a blog whore. I’ll see your long, hard, stallion cocks, and raise you virile, masculine, rock hard, pumping, glistening, powerful stallion cocks.
Your bid.
Hey Doug, thanks for the extra fine comments on my blog!
And you’ll be intrigued to learn that real stallions, not just Sylvester Stallone models, real, muscular, horse stallions masturbate as often as they can.
They have large balls, and they enjoy dancing slightly with their hind legs, gently caressing their balls until they get an erection. Visitors walking past often think the boys are prancing to pass the time. (Front legs moving–prancing. Front legs still–horse masturbation.) So now you know. Aren’t you happy.
And by the way, unless I resort to some lame circus swearing, I don’t think I can outbid you on this go around.Just pass your paddle up to the front so the auctioneer can record your number.
It’s been fun, Suisan. Let’s do it again sometime!
Whenever you so desire.
I *really* whooped out loud when I saw the autocunnilingus search word come up. Only you, my dear, only you have this influence on me.
I told my husband on the phone while he was driving home that I got a hit on autocunnilingus, which of course led into a long, “Is that possible?” discussion. It is important to believe six impossible things before breakfast, or at least discuss two or three with your husband after dinner!
Some guy actually wrote a book about stretching exercises that would allow a guy to auto-fellate. I only know this because I read the Amok catalog. Really.
*shaking her head at the depravity of our modern culture which is clearly exhibited by its poor reading choices.* Stretching exercises? Might cause more people to engage in a healthier lifestyle and exercise at the gym.
(Spending a touch too much time discussing booklists with a Mormon causes these bouts of furrowed brow and concerned lip pursing.)
1540 – Thomas Cromwell, is executed on order from Henry VIII of England on charges of treason. Henry marries his fifth wife, Catherine Howard, on the same day.
1794 – Maximilien Robespierre is guillotined in front of a cheering crowd, for sending thousands of others to a similar fate during the French Revolution.
1914 – World War I begins: Austria-Hungary declares war on Serbia after it failed to meet the conditions of an ultimatum it set on July 23 following the killing of Archduke Francis Ferdinand by a Serbian assassin. This event leads to the outbreak of war.
1945 – A US Army bomber accidentally crashes into the 79th floor of the Empire State Building killing 14 injuring 26.
Born:
1866 – Beatrix Potter, English author (d. 1943)
1929 – Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, First Lady of the United States (d. 1994)
1954 – Hugo Chavez, President of Venezuela
Died:
1655 – Cyrano de Bergerac, French poet (b. 1619)
Here’s my Wikipedia meme.
Doug, Suisan, this is all WAY too much information. (But I love it.) My birthday is the same exact day as Phoebe Cates’s, and her husband Kevin Kline, has the same birthday as my husband (tho not the same year). I wrote her one time to say that those with our birthday are the only ones who can put up with those with our husband’s birthday. I know that is true. She never wrote me back, though. Sob.
Favorite Phoebe Cates line (from Lace):
WHICH ONE OF YOU BITCHES IS MY MOTHER?
Oh yeah baby.
Hi Doug-
I’ve been lurking for a couple weeks, and had to try out this meme. Your site is one of the bright spots in my day – I followed the link from Smart Bitches Trashy Books.
Renee
Thanks for de-lurking, Renee! I like meeting my readers. Think I’ll stop by your place.
Well, that was fun. Here’s mine. Better late than never.