Clever Is As Clever Does (Not)
So it's that time of the (year? month? whatever...) again, where I throw myself down upon your electronic doormat and say that you can ask me any five questions and I'll answer them with bruised-knuckle honesty. There's two catches, though:
1) You have to then post this same sort of spiel in your LJ, feeling free to edit the sales pitch however you want, so I can plague you with insightful sallies (or Roberts, if that's your thing) as well, and...
2) This time, if more than two people don't do it, I'm not going to do these things again. Seriously. There's nothing more dorky-feeling than screaming "Here I am, world, ripe for the harvesting! Shower me with your literary bon mots and probe my cortex with your cold, steel fingers as I writhe on your table!" and tuning in each day to find the following message:
MEH.
So sharpen those knives and cut me deep. I'm ready and willing.
(much apologies to samanthalake for apparently channeling her spirit during that spiel)