No More Fun with Facebook Questions
Apparently I’ve been banned. From answering Facebook Questions, that is. And right after someone marked the story of my favorite free thing last summer as “helpful.” Suddenly all my answers have been hidden from view from the public, with this message at the top of each of my answers:
Your answer was marked unhelpful and is currently only visible to moderators and yourself
What’s so irritating about this is that out of the 23 Facebook Questions I answered, 12 of them–over half–were serious answers. (Yes, I really would like to see a movie made of Axe Cop). One of those, discussing the difference between film and painting, was marked “helpful” by 9 people. Other of these 12 earnest replies received a number of “helpful” ratings, including a friendly guide to freshwater fishing in San Diego.
Well, the other 11 answers were pretty funny, I thought. I posted 3 of them yesterday. Here, for the sake of public elucidation, are my other cruelly censored Answers to Facebook Questions:
A. When everyone in Rancho Cucamonga is inoculated against salmonella and botulism.
A. VHS does a documentary about your downward spiral and ultimate demise. Your heirs squabble over the ridiculously little amont of money you were able to leave them. Then you are forgotten, like 99.999999999999 percent of the people who have lived on this planet.
A. When in Cincinnati, you must have one of their famous bow ties. http://tinyurl.com/y29bdzp.
A. If I told you, David Miscavage would have to kill you, and then force me to salute his beagle 888 times. http://tinyurl.com/ygp2px4. (rated “helpful” by 2 people!)
A. You misheard the saying. It’s “Allen: For Michigan.” Allen van Houten considers himself the biggest Wolverine fan alive. He has attended every home game since 1954, and now that he is retired (he used to own Dooley’s in Ann Arbor), he travels to every single away game the Wolverines play. You may have seen him at games, wearing his wolverine-skin cap, one half of his face painted blue, the other half maize, and his adamantium claws protruding from his blue gloves with bright maize Ms.
A. That would have to be this old Public Service Announcement, VD is for Everybody. With a catchy melody I can still hum years later, I learned that anyone–young, old, male, female, upper class or construction worker–can have an STD; so always use protection, especially with a new partner! It’s a far more important lesson than what brand beer to drink or computer to purchase.
A. This is an order, not a question. If you want to order something, go to Amazon.com. (3 people marked this “helpful”)
A. That would have to be the amazing afternoon I spent in the company of movie star Jessica Alba.
I was working as a customer assistant at San Diego Hardware. I turned the corner into Aisle 5, and practically bumped right into Jessica Alba. She was wearing flip flops, Daisy Dukes, and a bikini top, just like the Katy Perry song. She was staring down at an angle bracket, biting half of her lower lip, her brow wrinkled with confusion, so I asked if I could help her.
She said, “I need to fasten this to a wall and I don’t know how to do it.”
I said, “Oh, you need to use a fastener.”
She looked up hopefully at me, eyebrows raised, and I asked her, “Would you like a screw?” Her eyes narrowed and she flashed an inviting smile at me and said, “Yes!” and then before I could reply she grabbed my hand tightly and walked quickly out of the store with me in tow.
I was so flabbergasted, I couldn’t speak. There was a 16-foot limo double parked at the curb outside the store. Jessica swung the door open quickly with her free hand, and yanked me into the limo with the other.
Modesty forbids me from describing what happened over the next 2 hours. When I returned to the store, legs shaking, drenched in sweat, ripe with the smell of Jessica’s womanhood intermingled with an odor of pancake batter, my manager was waiting by the register with a security guard. He fired me on the spot–for theft. You see, when Ms. Alba tugged me out the door, I had her angle bracket and a #8 wood screw in my hand. I dropped them in the limo when my hands were needed for other more urgent purposes, and in the daze following my encounter with Jessica Alba, I left them in the car.
Mr. Donaldson refused to believe my story and asked for my apron and name tag and had security escort me out of the store. But those 2 hours in the limousine with Jessica–that was totally cool! Best present ever! The blisters which subsequently appeared on my pecker, however, are another matter. I wish I had listened to more closely to this Public Service Announcement.
Hmmm. Maybe that reference to the “odor of pancake batter” was going a little too far.
[Part One of this Bloghead blog thread may be read at this link]