keepin' it short, if not real

Ok, so my friend Terry Teachout, who may or may not be the mystery date lurking behind the door of my lascivious future, has posted his six-word memoir. I was, therefore, compelled to write mine.

Here it is: Lycra to literary, not Diablo Cody.

I've also been procrastinating like a rabid weasel with ADD on the site Free Rice, which tests your vocabulary while feeding people through the UN World Food Program.

Finally, don't forget to enter the contest. Just send me an email or leave me a comment telling me why you should be the lucky recipient of a free My Buddy package. Send me something good by 11 March, and you could receive a big, innocuous cardboard box chock full of vibrating fun.

UPDATE: a friend has written two six-word memoirs for me that are far better than my own. I suppose, though, that as she wrote them, they're more six-word biographies than memoirs. Here they are:

G-stringed dancer, bared all on paper
G-stringed at Flashdancers, naked in literature.

Another friend observed that my earlier six-word memoir suggests that I "have Diablo Cody on the brain." He's probably right.

Comments

[Josephine]

You stole my memoir!
:)

[karl elvis]

I've also had Diablo Cody on the brain of late, though I'd rather have Chelsea Summers on my lap, you know, if I get a choice.

But I still can't come up with a six word bio. It's too much like poetry and you know I can't do that, either.

[ab]

Love the free rice link..