One cannot resume blogging after a long break without finding out that someone has tagged him. Just the way you can't leave your bike out in the parking lot for about a month and go off to Haridwar, and expect to find the battery still nestling in its place when you return. It's a law of nature.
So, before I go further, and before more accusations of "you still owe me a tag!" are hurled at me, I present to you my latest tag. Not unlike one of those "complete the following sentences with phrases of your own" series of exercises we did back in our language classes. Yes, the ones we looked forward to as much as we look forward to a date with the dentist with root canal work on the menu.
Like the dentist says, let's make this a quick and painless job.
Here are my responses.
I am thinking about – tags and how they spread from blogger to blogger like a virus.
I said – I'm thinking about tags and how they spread from blogger to blogger like a virus.
I want to – know who thinks of these tags, really. And I also want to meet him/her. If it's a him, I'd like to meet him over some duelling pistols, and if it's a her... how about a coffee? I know this really nice place...
I wish – it would turn out to be a her.
I miss - very frequently, so just in case it's a him, I'll need a bit of practice.
I hear – duelling pistols don't come very cheap, these days.
I wonder – how much of my hard-earned money will go into them pistols. Coffee would be much cheaper, wouldn't it? Please let it be a her.
I regret – not putting in enough practice - both in duelling and in asking girls out for coffee.
I am – bloody lazy that way.
I dance – pretty bad, which I think is also linked to my 'bad-at-asking-girls-out-for-coffee' trait...
I sing – pretty bad, too. Strike three.
I cry – in your dreams, pal. Hah. Me macho, see? Even if me underweight. (Hang on while I scratch myself and spit out the side of my mouth).
I am not always - macho... I'm not so used to duelling pistols, see?
I make with my hands - pretty good coffee, though. Filter coffee. The problem is the availability of a decent filter.
I write – when I'm not working, riding my bike, taking photographs, watching movies, duelling, or summoning up courage to ask girls out for a coffee.
I confuse – love and war, sometimes... who was I supposed to be duelling?
I need – some coffee. All this talk of coffee this late in the night, what did you expect?
I should try – and see if the kitchen in this hotel is still open.
I finish – with a benevolent smile directed at fellow bloggers, and say the four magic words - "the tag stops here".
There, me man. I hope you're satisfied. It wasn't quick, it wasn't painless, but that's how nice a guy I am.