If I Could Be ...


Stacy the Red Hot Peanut Queen, passed this "If I Could Be..." thing on to me. And to quote her quote from Katya "the rules as I understand them are that I pick five things to be from the list and then write a bit about each one...then I add five things (if I can think any) and then pass the stick to some other people." So here I go ...


If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a service member...
If I could be a business owner...
If I could be an actor...
If I could be a rich girl...
If I could be a witch...
If I could be a racer...
If I could be an agent...
If I could be video game designer...
If I could be a comic book artist...
If I could be a hooker...
If I could be a porn star...
If I could be a taxi driver...
If I could be a priest...
If I could be a fighter pilot...
If I could be a homeless person...
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a child again...
If I could be invincible...
If I could be a superhero...
If I could be a man/woman for the day...
If I could be a legendary fantasy figure or warrior...
If I could be a vampire...
If I could be an animal...
If I could be a radio talk show host...
If I could be a successful inventor...

And I'm adding mine, which are...

If I could be a dictator of large country ...
If I could be a supermodel ...
If I could be a billionaire ...
If I could be a Navy seal ...
If I could be a professional assassin ...

And my answers are....

If I could be a doctor ... I'd have a lot more money and I wouldn't have to work for large corporations that use my skills and then screw me over as soon as it's convenient for them. I could live in any city because everyone needs doctors and I could travel anywhere in the world for my vacations. My blog would be a lot grosser because I'd be posting nasty medical photos and stories instead of glamour shots of Jennifer Love Hewitt. But Stacy would still read it. She loves to hook pelicans and large fish while in the nude. And Laura would still read it. She plays with deer hearts. And my life would be good.

If I could be a missionary... I'd be the meanest, nastiest missionary anyone ever heard of. When the Marxist rebels came to stick their AK47s in my face and tell me to shut up about Jesus or die, I'd be waiting for them with grenades and an AK of my own. God may love the Marxists' souls, but I'm damned tired of them. Maybe it's good that I'm not a missionary. I'm way too cranky. A friend of mine from college is a missionary and I send money to support what he does, but I know I'd be a bad one. I'd be the baddest one ever. And God would be mad.

If I could be a writer ... I'd probably write stories about the crooks and the scumbags who dominate the politics and corporations in Western Tennessee, Northern Mississippi, and Eastern Arkansas. I'd make a big nasty stink and people would get nervous. I'd include Robbie, the psychotic bastard from the Giant Memphis Express Shipping Company in every story I could where I needed a character who was a complete narcissist. And the folks in New York and Hollywood would eat it up because they hate the South and love any negative depictions of life here. Even though I know most of the South isn't like this I'd still write it so long as they paid me well. And then, after living high and mighty in New York City and Malibu, California (and doing Jennifer Love Hewitt) I'd start writing different stories, stories about lives of good and interesting people like Stacy, Laura, Robin (all of the Robins), Tricia, Stephanie, Katya, Elisabeth, Vanessa, and everyone else I've met through the blog. These are regular people with interesting lives and I know I could make a damned fine story out of it all. Obviously I'd have to make some stuff up to connect everyone together, but I swear you guys are some of the wildest people I've ever met. You help me get through the bad days.

If I could be an actor... I'd most likely be stuck playing odd characters. I figure I'd be the guy the leading lady is dating when the "real" hero comes along, sort of like the musician guy in "Serendipity." I'd have to learn how to cry on camera and say "please don't leave me for Mel Gibson even thougth I'm totally bland and boring." If they wanted me to play a villian I'd just pretend I was one of the many narcissists, crooks, and rednecks I've met in Memphis. Or I'd be the odd guy, sitting at my desk mumbling about my stapler. I could just pretend to be one of the many unusual people I've met or known. And they wouldn't pay me much, but I'd get to meet big stars and one day write a tell-all book about it. Please return to "If I could be a writer."

If I could be a comic book artist...I'd have to do underground comics because I'm so politically incorrect. I'd give Spiderman a little gray hair, because you know this guy is in his 40s by now. And the women would probably be more realistic, which is only to say I'd insist on really superhot models to work with. I'd probably try to hire the woman at work who actually has the body of a comic book superwoman. She really should be a model. Maybe one day I'll tell her that. Yeah, and maybe one day I'll be a comic book artist.

And now, to pass this on to some lucky person. I want to pass it to Brighton/Tricia because her answers are always extremely interesting and I don't think anyone has passed it to her before. I also want to pass it to Laura because I don't think she's had it yet either and her answers always include something that makes me say, "WTF?!" Because you know the marine/cop in her contrasts so strongly with the mother and artist and it just cracks me up. You know, she arrested two of her kids the other day for a baby-powder bomb they exploded in the house.

Can I pass it to two people or should I count Officer Mom Laura and Brighton/Tricia as four people since they each have such dramatic contrasts in their lives that make them both so interesting? Come on, girls, let's see what you got!

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