Or as we call it here in the West of Scotland: ‘tig‘. And when you’ve been ‘tigged’ you are then ‘het’! But even though I was tigged, or tagged, I’m no het because I jumped up off the ground onto a high ledge which made me immune from being het!
It seems that everyone on the planet is currently being tagged (well, at least in Bloggerland) and I was no exception with my dear friend Melinda conferring the accolade onto me last week to which I graciously (I hope) declined (and I hope she is still talking to me!). And I also have to thank my cyber pal Edgar for outing me and telling the world that I AM the Paranoid Prince of Party-Poopers! But at least he did give a generous pointer to the MoleskineExchange group I contribute to. Thanks for that Edgar!
My reason for not participating is two-fold: firstly, I’m just not happy about asking people in turn to do this and perhaps missing someone out who might have liked to take part; and secondly, I don't think my life is interesting enough to share in this way (not as interesting as Melinda's anyway). But, if you'll listen, I don’t mind sharing with you some of my own fishy foibles just don’t ask me to pass it on.
So, just to show the world I’m not really an auld grouch, I am going to play ‘Solo Tag’ which shouldn’t hurt anyone or offend if they are not on my list at the end, because there won’t be one!
Right, it’s here that I must now tell you seven little known factoids about myself set down in roughly chronological order:
1. When I was a nipper still in my pram I won a Beautiful Baby Contest and still hold my youthful good looks to this day! (the rest were pot ugly and greetin’).
2. At the tender age of ten I first left home to serve as a cabin boy on the Black Pig and we sailed the Southern Oceans in search of pirate treasure and I came back a real man.
3. When I was sixteen I winched (courted) a young 14 year old babe called Claudia Skiffer (or something like that) but soon chucked her when she grew ten feet tall and I couldn’t reach up to kiss her!
4. In my early twenties I played Centre-Forward for the mighty Glasgow Rangers and scored a hat-trick against our deadly rivals, Celtic, in the Scottish Cup Final. The first was a peach; I took the ball from the half-way line and dribbled round ten players, sometimes twice, including my own, and fired a fabulous left-foot volley high into the net taking the goalkeeper with it. No wonder they call it ‘the Beautiful Game’. The second was a headed goal when I out-leaped Celtic’s giant defenders and bulleted the ball into and through the net; and the third was similar to Diego Maradona’s ‘HandofGod' which put England out of the 1986 World Cup. I got away with it because the Ref was just as mesmerised by my fancy foot and hand work as all the other players and the 100,000 crowd!
5. As a young architect I was commissioned to design and supervise the construction of a grand opera house for Sydney which I duly did but lost the plans down the back of my settee. A certain young Mr Utzon was visiting at that time, but I never knew what became of the plans.
6. After I left Architecture and took up painting I once got a painting commissioned by the French Government and it now hangs in the Louvre two along from the Mona Lisa. It’s called “Mon Grande Cul“, and here it is to show I’m not lying:
Acrylics on board. The sub-text to this painting goes like this: Lady on left says to lady on right:"Does this dress make me look big"? To which the lady on the right replies:"Naw, it's your enormous boobs and yer big fat arse that does it"!
7. I once was travelling on an open-topped bus when it passed under a low bridge and I got my head knocked clean off. The surgeon was a real genius and managed to sew it back on again, unfortunately back-to-front, however it wasn’t noticed until a nurse said to me three days later: “Ye’know, yer talkin' oot the back o’ yer heid!”. I still do so to this day!
8. Finally, earlier this year I was abducted by aliens and flown to the planet Zorg where I was kept as a sex slave for six years to the evil Queen Dominatrix (affectionately known as “Trixie”). However I did manage to escape on an un-attended solar skater-board and after traversing the outer reaches of the universe found my way back home in time for tea. Apparently I was only away for six hours and was seen dozing the afternoon away up the Queens Park.
So there you have it, all true :o)
Well it beats the mundane reality like: I once dropped a stitch while knitting a dress for my dolly; or I still take my teddy to bed at night, or I used to wear my hair down to my shoulders but now I don’t have any.
Well that last one is definitely true!
And the very last part is to pass the baton on. So to all the cats I know, and all the cats I don’t know, yer het!
That just about covers it, so now Im away to get on with some painting!