Monday, August 06, 2007

So, I got tagged....

So, I got tagged...

Tish tagged me with this little thingamajig, which originated here. In it, I interview myself, as if I'd just discovered this blog......

Interviewer: So, I'm cruising the interweb. I was originally searching for Korma recipes, and I end up getting sidetracked, and happen your site. What's the deal here?

Tommy: I'm not quite sure what you mean.

Interviewer: Tell me me what it is you do here, at your Big Stupid Tommy interweb blog site.

Tommy: As opposed to the Big Stupid Tommy toaster blog site?

Interviewer: (long, angry pause) That's one!

Tommy: What's one?

Interviewer: You get three chances! You piss me off three times, and I hit you so hard you explode into thousands of butterflies.

Tommy: You'd have to hit me pretty hard....

Interviewer: I could do it. Don't doubt my might.

Tommy: Sure...don't doubt you. What was your question again.

Several minutes pass where the interviewer is shuffling through papers, which is rather irksome, since he had to lean into a bag by his seat to pull out papers specifically to shuffle.

Interviewer: So. What is it that you do here?

Tommy: On my blog?

Interviewer: On your blog.

Tommy: Well. It's just a little site I've kept for a few years now. It's where I come to post little things that I write. I started it because I was laboring under the delusion that I was a writer, but I wasn't making myself write anything. Mostly I just put the stupid things up that pop into my head.

Interviewer: Like fart jokes?

Tommy: Yeah, like fart jokes. I like fart jokes.

Interviewer: Do you know any?

Tommy: Upon further thought, I can't think of any real fart jokes. I can think of several fart anecdotes, but no real jokes about or concerning farts."

Interviewer: Do you have one of those anecdotes you'd like to share?

Tommy: When I was a kid, my grandmother had a stroke. She ended staying for a while up in Ft. Sanders for a while. That summer, we headed up there fairly often. On one trip, my aunt and uncle came to visit from Delaware.

During one elevator ride up to the center where they kept my grandmother, and the other stroke patients, my aunt and I were joined by a patient in a wheelchair, and two nurses. I was nose-deep in my new issue of "Cracked" magazine, and my aunt was, I suppose, staring at the door of the elevator, waiting for it to be open. Without warning, the guy in the wheelchair (who seemed mostly catatonic) cuts a buzzsaw fart that I don't even know he was aware enough to appreciate.

One nurse turns to the other and says "Doctor who?"

Here, the interviewer laughs. For a long, long time. In fact, Tommy has time to go to the fridge and get a bottle of water.

Interviewer (wiping a tear from his eye): How wonderfully droll....

Tommy: Yeah. That...that was a good one. I guess.

Interviewer: Do you have any other flatulence related tales, somehow involving you?

Tommy: A few, but none I'm at liberty to share.

Interviewer: I have to admit to certain level of disappointment.

Tommy: Sorry. I find that it lessens the impact of the fart story to share too many at one time.

Interviewer: Indeed. You are wise beyond the name of your blog.

Tommy: Thanks, I guess.

Interviewer: So. Your blog. What is it that you do here?

Tommy: Didn't you ask me that already?

Interviewer: Damn. I was hoping to trick you into telling me another fart story.

Tommy: Trust me, you don't have to trick me. You just have to wait. It's a near constant source of amusement.

Interviewer (clearly disappointed and bored at the lack of fart stories): What else do you do here?

Tommy: Well, I write stuff. Sometimes its a reaction to a news item or something somebody else wrote in their blog. Sometimes its something I hope is funny, that just pops into my head. Sometimes, it's a link dump. And occasionally, I'll just post whatever's in my head, or in my heart.

Interviewer: Wait. Go back. What do you mean "Link Dump?"

Tommy: It's not what you think. Sometimes I find something cool on the interweb and want to share it.

Interviewer: Mmmm. Such as?

Tommy: Well, I've been going here and playing Mike Tyson's Punch Out for a couple weeks.

Interviewer: And that's cool?

Tommy: I like it.

Interviewer: Are you any good?

Tommy: Well, it's harder to play using the keyboard. The timing is different. There's nothing like being 30 years old and screaming about Bald Bull beating you yet again. I think the only difference between me being 30 and hollering, and me being 12 and yelling, is that when I was 12, I could throw the Nintendo controller. I can't throw my computer.

Interviewer: Why not? Are you not strong enough?

Tommy: Well, I'd prefer not to have to clean the computer up...

Interviewer: So you're lazy.

Tommy: In my spare time.

Interviewer: Do you have employment?

Tommy: Yeah. I manage a grocery store.

Interviewer: Mmm. How's that workin' out for you?

Tommy: Eh. It takes up a lot of time. I've actually investigated stepping down, so that I can go back to school.

Interviewer: What would you go back to school for?

Tommy: I'd like to be a teacher.

Interviewer: A teacher?!?!?!?!?! Of children?

Tommy: Actually, I was thinking of trying to teach English to dogs, and the various woodland creatures in the forests surrounding my small town.

Interviewer: Ponderous. You just came very close to earning Number Two.

Tommy: Number Two? Somehow this conversation seems to keep coming back to that, with you.

Interviewer: That's Two!!!!

Tommy: Alright.

Interviewer: You think you're funny?

Tommy: I amuse myself.

Interviewer What have you done here on this blog that you think I might find particularly funny?

Tommy: Ummm...what do you like outside of fart jokes?

Interviewer: Very little, in truth.

Tommy: I don't know what to tell you. I got a lot of positive response from the Stegosaurus post. I enjoyed my tribute to my friend, who had passed away. I don't know, beyond that. It always surprises me what gets a rise out of people, and what they ignore.

Interviewer: Perhaps those people are exhibiting taste.

Tommy: Could be. But then, you're the one here interviewing me, so I know where I fall on the food chain.

Interviewer (pushing over a chair): That's Three!!!!!

(And Big Stupid Tommy explodes into a thousand, beautiful butterflies....)


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