dubkitty wrote:backwards. i'd go to the happiest part of my life, live through it again, and then go back. i'd go back around 1990 and 1991 forever. Lee and i would always be in love, and i'd never lose my belief in the future.
would you rather have amnesia, or remember everything that ever happened? like, every single thing ever in your life in granular specific detail? assume that you'd retain your accumulated skills and learning; only your life-experience memories would be affected.
remember everything. Living like you're in Memento all the time just sounds horrible, but kind of awesome actually. You'd always have purpose...
Would you rather be stuck watching the same Values.com (y'know the lame one with the high school basketball kid who of course is black) commercials or the same Jersey Shore reruns for an hour every day?
BOOM-SHAKALAKALAKA-BOOM-SHAKALAKUNGA
Behndy wrote:i don't like people with "talent" and "skills" that don't feel the need to cover their inadequacies under good time happy sounds.
NASCAR is huge in my neck of the woods. That said, it's so fucking dull! As is golf. Whichever I choose, I'll wind up going to sleep. Golf's more quiet than Nascar, so I'll say that. Who would you rather see in concert:
blooghost wrote:NASCAR is huge in my neck of the woods. That said, it's so fucking dull! As is golf. Whichever I choose, I'll wind up going to sleep. Golf's more quiet than Nascar, so I'll say that. Who would you rather see in concert:
DANZA.jpg
Because he looks like he's taking himself less seriously?
Infinite knowledge or be able to see infinite humor in things? Think Mr. Spock vs whatever the opposite would be.
i'd have to go for infinite knowledge, despite my deep conviction that ignorance is bliss, because it seems to me that infinite humor would be a cul-de-sac. if everything's a joke, what's the point? infinite knowledge means there's the chance to progress.
horribly out-of-tune piano, or guitar with two missing strings?
In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni
FIFTY YEARS OF SCARING THE CHILDREN 1970-2020--and i'm not done yet
LOL, guitar with two missing strings, if only because I play doomy crap anyhow....
Be the "ruler of the world" or be able to change people's minds to your way of thinking, knowing that you would die unknown and your ideas might not stick around in the long run. Fascist or "guru, whatever..."?
snipelfritz wrote:Ruler of the world because I believe that everyone thinking the same way would be a horrible thing even if it was a good way of thinking.
Uhhh, kill the person I love? But that's easy for me 'cause i've never like...been in love.
Would you rather:
smoke more pot than you can handle, or drink a handle of Karkov?
fuck that gimme da weed.
Who would you rather happen upon taking a shit: your grandma or grandpa?
snipelfritz wrote:Big boobs, I've already been there and enjoyed it thoroughly (this girl had no ass, but was still fucking stunning).
And Grandpa since both my grandmas are dead so that might be awkward.
Would you rather smell like ass always, or be ugly. Like super ugly? (I'm sooooo bad at coming up with these)
Me too. Super ugly. I could use costumes and whatnot to enhance my appearance and people are into weird shit anyhow. Plus I could scare people when I felt like it.
Here's a personality-teller: if you had to and could only tune your main instrument up or down?
doooooooooowwwwwwwn. Most tunings I use (even on lap steel) are pretty low. Would you rather syphon the leftovers from the mustache of John Oates, or David Crosby?
Ruler: i could be a benign monarch like the Queen of the Nederlanders and delegate things to highly skilled ministers.
i couldn't kill the person i love my own self, by shooting or garroting or something like that. but given the parameters, i'd push the button to kill the one i love because in either option you lose her/him, but in one the rest of the world lives on with you.
more pot. it'd be amusing to see how much it'd take, and drinking a whole bottle of vodka would kill me. seriously. at the very least, i'd be on a fucking IV the next day. alcohol is not my friend.
boobs. boobs on top, yo.
grandma. she'd raised ten kids, and was used to anything by the time she was old. she'd just have laughed at me and told me to get out of here.
ugly. Serge Gainsbourg got metric tons of pussy. so did Charles Bukowski.
Lost in a boat at sea with no supplies but a water tank and a fishing line, or lost in space with enough supplies for life but no way of returning to Earth?
In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni
FIFTY YEARS OF SCARING THE CHILDREN 1970-2020--and i'm not done yet
