Wednesday, May 05, 2004
Little games I play. People must think I'm really weird because I like to involve them in my little games. These include "Would You Call Your Child...", "Armageddon Train/Tram/Bus", "Is It Worse If a Fat Chick..." and "Would You Wear A T-Shirt That Says...".
Would You Call Your Child... involves picking really strange names and asking people if they would call their child that. Nobody will ever play this game to my satisfaction. Some names I've recently tried include Keltrice, Aslan and Lenny. Inevitably, my mother always thinks this means I'm pregnant, even though this would require an immaculate conception, but I enjoy frightening her by suggesting names like Pythagoras and Leroy. Most of the time, people just look at me strangely.
Armageddon Train is done on public transport. I imagine that the entire world except my tram, bus or train carriage was devastated in some cataclysm, leaving only these passengers to rebuild the world. I try to imagine who would become our charismatic leader, how the skills I imagine the various people to possess would be put to use in our brave new world, and most importantly, who would father and bear all the new children (ie: who would I have sex with?).
Is It Worse If a Fat Chick... is a practical exercise, because I am paranoid about my flab and always on the lookout for strategies to minimise it. So I ask my friends to weigh up two fashion alternatives, like "Is it worse if a fat chick has long hair or short hair?" "Is it worse if a fat chick wears high pants or low pants?" "Is it worse if a fat chick wears delicate shoes or chunky shoes?"
Would You Wear A T-Shirt That Says... is my least successful game, because basically, nobody will wear silly t-shirts except me. Although I had some success on Saturday night with a t-shirt that says "The Cats of Australia Have Made Their Choice."
Would You Call Your Child... involves picking really strange names and asking people if they would call their child that. Nobody will ever play this game to my satisfaction. Some names I've recently tried include Keltrice, Aslan and Lenny. Inevitably, my mother always thinks this means I'm pregnant, even though this would require an immaculate conception, but I enjoy frightening her by suggesting names like Pythagoras and Leroy. Most of the time, people just look at me strangely.
Armageddon Train is done on public transport. I imagine that the entire world except my tram, bus or train carriage was devastated in some cataclysm, leaving only these passengers to rebuild the world. I try to imagine who would become our charismatic leader, how the skills I imagine the various people to possess would be put to use in our brave new world, and most importantly, who would father and bear all the new children (ie: who would I have sex with?).
Is It Worse If a Fat Chick... is a practical exercise, because I am paranoid about my flab and always on the lookout for strategies to minimise it. So I ask my friends to weigh up two fashion alternatives, like "Is it worse if a fat chick has long hair or short hair?" "Is it worse if a fat chick wears high pants or low pants?" "Is it worse if a fat chick wears delicate shoes or chunky shoes?"
Would You Wear A T-Shirt That Says... is my least successful game, because basically, nobody will wear silly t-shirts except me. Although I had some success on Saturday night with a t-shirt that says "The Cats of Australia Have Made Their Choice."
