Meme Time

I've been meme-tagged by Ali. According to the rules, I’m supposed to answer five of the following “If I could…” questions, then tag five bloggers to continue the meme chain. I’m stealing a page from Sarcasmo’s book and have decided to answer the questions but not actively tag anyone. I know a lot of my fellow bloggers are currently dealing with insane work schedules and might not have time to respond. Besides, the last time I tagged a group several failed to unquestioningly obey my commands which sent me into a psychotic rage. Since I enjoyed their posts I decided to spare them, but I had to kill somebody so I whacked Hitler in their stead. Not Adolf Hitler – Bob Hitler, his twin brother.

If you remember your history, Bob Hitler was responsible for forming the Third Reign of Really Awful Badness. He killed 5,999,999 Jews in what was labeled The Time of Ouchiness. Remember? Of course not. That’s because of the time machine. I went into my bedroom and quickly constructed a temporal displacement field out of some ice cream sandwich wrappers, AA batteries, dust bunnies, and a vanilla scented candle. I popped back to the mid 1930’s, smacked Bob with a 10 LB Dead Blow Hammer, and then returned to the present after stopping by England in the seventies for some taffy. When I checked the history books I saw Bob’s brother had taken his place, upped the body count by one, and had created some new buzzwords like Reich and Holocaust. I decided to leave things alone at that point. At least the taffy was good.

Anyway, I encourage anyone who’s interested to do this meme on their own blog. Be sure to leave a comment letting me know where to find your answers.

The questions:

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer... I would specialize in hybrids, like the banapple – round, peels by hand, firm like an apple so it resists bruising and browning, but with a sweet seedless core – or the cornion – grow in shucks underground, good source of fiber and doesn’t make you cry if you eat it on the cob (take your chances if you cream it). People could travel to my farm, fondle the fruit, and visit an array of stands selling farm fresh products, like jalapeno jam, potato jerky, my world famous Habanero Wine ($1 per bottle), and bottled water ($50 per bottle, and no you can’t get a cup of water from my well).
If I could be a musician... I would be the drummer and frontman/behind the scene power of an ultra metal band. All our instruments would be made of metal. For example, our lead guitarist would play the chainsaw across a steel plate. The vocalist would scream into the mike while piercing his throat with safety pins. I would play a set of iron barrels with a pair of dead blow hammers. Our music would be the perfect synthesis of violence and art, and would satisfy my needs to create beauty and beat the crap out of stuff. Needless to say, I’d get plenty of chicks and would elect to die young, except it’s already too late for that.
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary... I would travel around the country on my Harley, teaching about the unconditional love of the great Fribblewonker which can be yours for only $19.99, or four convenient payments of only $14.99. I would convert the unbelievers into corpses with my dead blow hammer. Performing such miracles as changing tithing into beer, I would instruct the masses in Fribblewonker’s Triad: 1) Fribblewonker is love, damnit, so love thy neighbor or be killed by a dead blow hammer. 2) What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine. 3) Except for Grant. Bibles and pamphlets will be for sale online.
If I could be a chef... I would be so fat.
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist... I would be Hannibal Lechter. See “If I could be a chef…”
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an inn-keeper...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer... I am a writer, but I’m assuming the question means “If I could be a well-paid writer…” In that case, I would sleep in very late for about a month. After that, I would live a life of total freedom. Traveling around the country on my Harley, I would visit every corner of America and all parts in between – parks, cities, racetracks, strip clubs, seafood restaurants, theatres, you name it. At night I would read, hone my craft, and try to find a bar that serves a good banana daiquiri. Sometimes I would stay in a town for an extra week or month if it had something interesting to teach – ancient Indian burial grounds, some odd dialect or oddball custom, or really good banana daiquiris.
If I could be a llama rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate... Why would anyone pirate a bonnie? Are they that expensive?
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a world famous blogger... Are you saying I’m not?
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world... I would be the head justice of the U.S. Supreme court. All decisions would now include the death penalty. After dismissing the other judges, I would institute a policy of “Trial by Thumping.” All trials would go thusly – I and I alone would hear all testimony, weigh the evidence carefully, then I would swing my gavel (read: dead blow hammer) at somebody’s head (plaintiff, defendant, lawyer, whoever I found to be the most annoying) and if they survived a single headshot, their side won. Naturally I would use some judgment. For example, the Runaway Bride would probably get a glancing blow whereas Scott Peterson would have the hammer imbedded in his skull by way of his testicles.
If I could be married to any current famous political figure...
If I could be a dog trainer...

If, out