The Discordian Meme

Oh Kali, we're two-stepping again.

Miss Jill at B@B, swatted the back of my head and barked, "Fuggeddabowdit." Not wanting to get meat sauce on my silk bowling shirt, I comply.

1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

This is my pearl of meteorological wisdom. Don't choke on its uncanny prescience:

Right now, the sky could open again at any moment, so he's outside bolting his carburator to the engine.

...unless you want to.

I've been thinking about this line dance, and I'll check back about in a bit later. Seems to me compiling random bits of time and space are an interesting project, like spending an afternoon reading the bathroom doors in a punk club. To me, what people say with a pen and a moment alone distills an evening, a season, a relationship, a dry-hump into one often startling revelation. Sometimes it's funny.

I would not discourage anyone from volunteering to page through their archive and find the fifth line of the twenty-third entry. Volunteer away! But if I must tag, I must think.

Political bloggers could measure their own reasoning.

Mommy bloggers might remember some lost moment.

Art bloggers may turn over a shimmering phrase or forgotten photo.

Suzette would find my house and snatch me baldheaded. Sometimes that's funny.

I'll get back to you about it. Too many treats!