*blows bubbles*

[unamaga]

My lovely schneestern asked her flist who they wanted to be today instead of themselves, and most people answered awesome things like "Anna who has a fabulous house and lots of books", except, y'know, more elaborate than that. But I? Am an odd duck. This is my answer:

I want to be an eccentric middle-aged man who wears a brown, lopsided top hat and has a pipe that he pretends he packs with tobacco, but which actually just blows bubbles. My name would be something long and exotic, like Eric, but everyone would just call me Bob.

My days would be spent blowing bubbles from my pipe as I strolled leisurely around my sprawling estate, playing golf with my imaginary friend, Clownard, inviting young, available men and women to stay for weeks at a time so that I may make matches of them, and fancifully arranging ice sculptures in the garden for my next picnic-gala.

So, stealing from Jules, who do you want to be today? Bonus points if you can somehow involve a potato masher.

Oh! And also. I think I've been tagged for this thing five times over, so, here are seven songs that I am currently into - and this time, I will keep it down to seven songs only, damnit.

1. Stina Nordenstam - The World is Saved
   
2. Tori Amos - Happiness is a Warm Gun
   
3. Ella Fitzgerald - It Don't Mean a Thing
   
4. Cat Power - He War
   
5. Massive Attack - Inertia Creeps
   
6. Billie Holiday - Loverman
   
7. Iron & Wine - Teeth in the Grass

Comments

[schneestern.livejournal.com]

Oh, honey. You make me ridiculously happy.

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

*makes out with you*

[schneestern.livejournal.com]

rwar! *kisses*

[entwinedangels.livejournal.com]

i want to be the girl who never think past the next twenty minutes, with messy pigtails, sub machine gun slung over her shoulder and a knife never far from hand. I want to be capable and professional and uncaring, the sort of person who just walks in does what needs to be done and walks out.

(either that or a middle aged spinster weilding a potatoe masher at her spoiled neices and nephews. XP)

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

I must ask - will your pigtails be pink? Because that would lend an ENTIRELY NEW dimension to the awesome.

(POTATO MASHER! \o/)

[entwinedangels.livejournal.com]

no theyd be a nice brow. (with pink ribbons tied in bows)

(see when you said potatoe masher, i automatically went GERMAN GRENADE! >_> so you nearly got a spinster running around with one of them XP)

[inderpal.livejournal.com]

I want to be a professional potato masher, who mashes potatoes and makes potato-y thingys ... and has a driver's liscense. :D

*really needs to go to sleep now*

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

YOU WIN THE PRIZE FOR PO-TAY-TOH. *presents you with a Mr. Potatohead*

[inderpal.livejournal.com]

\O/


YAYs!

[rachelsm.livejournal.com]

I want to be an old prostitute, with many stories to tell and an interesting point of view in everything, and a realistic way of saying things most poets can't translate into words.

... or Bill Gates, either way, I'm happy

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

I vote prostitute. I mean, it might as well be the same thing anyway, right? NO WAY did Bill Gates get where he is without a few sexual favors. Huh? Huh? AMIRITE?

[devilyouwere.livejournal.com]

You never fail to amuse me.

Who do I want to be today? I want to be somebody who doesn't have to write her math final on Friday. Very original but true. Oh, she is to have a potato masher too. Bonus points?

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

SHE CAN MASH HER TEST WITH THE POTATO MASHER. Brilliant!

[devilyouwere.livejournal.com]

That would be a win.

You've set me off on one now...

[polyspaston.livejournal.com]

Who would I like to be today? That's a very interesting one.

I can remember working in the box factory once at three o’clock in the morning, I'm there looking for a new way to get sent home - bloodying my fingers up on the sharp corners of the boxes just wasn't reason enough - lads were pinging elastic bands into the machinery to make it all stop so we could have a break, and I could just about hear the radio over the noise of all the conveyer belts. "And it’s happy birthday to Daniel Radcliffe," says the presenter - I have no idea why he thought the lad would hear him at three in the morning but there you go. At that moment, I would have given ANYTHING to swap places with Daniel Radcliffe. I was like, what are you doing right now? Tucked up in your bed with probably a new quad bike or something waiting downstairs for you to open in the morning. I seriously wanted to rip my soul out of my body and put it into his. Then I thought, to be honest, I could go into anyone's body so long as they weren't in the factory. For instance, I would have given my right arm to be, let’s say, the lowliest masher of potatoes, wielding my trusty potato masher in a restaurant kitchen, so long as my potato mashing duties didn’t begin until a reasonable hour the next day...

Apart from that very long story, I've never really wanted to be anyone else. I suppose I'd like to swap places with a student, so I could bum about for a day again.