American what?
You Have Not Been Ruined by American Culture |
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You have a broad view of the world, and you’re very well informed. And while you certainly have been influenced by American culture (who hasn’t?), it’s not your primary influence. You take a more global philosophy with your politics, taste, and life. And you’re always expanding and revising what you believe. |
Has American Culture Ruined You?
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Equal parts freaky-accurate and huh? (and I’m not telling you which is which) this is a fun one, just in time to warm you up for summer beach reads, summer love affairs, summer Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers…
Your Love Life Secrets Are |
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You prefer a quirky, unique person to be your lover. You’re easy going about who you’re with, as long as they love you back. In fights, you are able to walk away and calm down. You are able to weather the storm. A break-up usually comes as a shock to you. You always think things are going well. |
Your Love Life Secrets, Revealed
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This is hilarious: this is about the only type of bra I do not own. But then, I have this birthday coming up…and thanks to the Celebrity Boob Twin test, you all know my size.
You Are a Flashy Red Bra! |
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You’re a charmer, with your pick of the men. But you want a man who’s as magnetic as you are. You need someone who can keep up with your all night gab fests! |
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Hmm, bit of a surprise here, as I was expecting cyberpunk (does serving lattes to William Gibson for a solid year count for NOTHING?) but then, I have no more faith in technology than I do in human nature!
In A Post-Apocalyptic World, Who Would You Be?
You are a Bounty Hunter
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Also, how does that synch up with this:
Which heroic sword fighter are you?
You are Joan of Arc, maid of Orleans! You are a born leader. Your strengths include a sharp mind and determination, your weaknesses include a certain degree of self-righteousness and difficulty compromising. You would rather die than betray your beliefs. You are more popular than you realize.
Oh, yeah… you are also quite possibly insane.
Take this quiz!
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I’m kind of disappointed my blogging diploma isn’t from Miskatonic, but that’s nothing a little hacking won’t fix.
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Blogging Degree
From Go-Quiz.com
And this reminds me, it does, of the time my mother wanted to buy me a Doctorate from Harvard.
She was living in Saudi Arabia, as one does, shacked up with a CIA agent whose job it was to teach battlefield communications to the Saudis. As one does.
Islam was the bane of his existence, as five times a day no matter what they’d all pull out their rugs and face mecca and present a nice, juicy target to the Israelis. No indeed, this did not take him to his happy place, for yea, he was a very conscientious battlefield communications instructor. Over and over he lectured them, over and over he proved that the Israelis could wipe them all out at any of those five, widely known and unvarying times of day. And over and over they happily replied “if the Israelis kill us we will go straight to Paradise as martyrs,” and I believe one of them even made a reference to that bugger, I can’t kill him when he’s praying scene in Hamlet, obviously stretching to try to find some common ground with Jerry the Baptist, out in the wild Arabian desert.
As a sideline, Jerry ran the local casino and house of ill repute, which brought in several times his salary, and which he was allowed to keep because what his bosses were truly interested in was the blackmail material gathered by the tiny cameras placed strategically around the premises. He also had the local distribution rights for Johnny Walker, which was as the mines of King Solomon in terms of putting out the gelt.
Where was I? Oh yes, about to get to the religious police.
Naturally, Jerry was quite conscious of the activities of the religious police. The main trouble with the religious police was, as you can imagine, that they tended to be quite…well, there’s really no way around this, I’m just going to have to come out and say it… quite religious.
And the whole living-in-sin-with-a-Canadian-and-a-socialist-at-that thing was exactly the sort of thing with which they were Not Cool.
At. All.
Now, Jerry and my mother were by no means originals in their living arrangements, which did tend to give a rather louche reputation to even the primmest Mormon that the Yanks sent over, and so, as always happens where there are problems and lots of money around, a man materialized with a solution.
He materialized at the same time every year, swinging through the Middle East like an olden days tinker would swing through, say, Simcoe County, offering his wares.
He was a Filipino forger, and he was a very busy man.
They took one of the American marriage licenses for $250, which is really cheap for a piece of paper that you show the religious police and they don’t have you stoned, when you think about it, really, and my mother pondered long over the very tempting Harvard Doctorate, but decided that even she was not overpaid enough to spend $500 and besides, what would she get my sister, eh? Answer me that!
That year she got a camel saddle and I got a silver veil. Gee, I guess Mom DID love me best, even if she thought I was ugly.
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raincoaster 