No one said I'd be killed if I didn't write the list of 25 random things about ME. But since it was all about ME, I wrote it anyways. If you're my Facebook friend, go find it there. If you want to be my Facebook friend, just Friend Add me. I swear I'll friend you back. Hi Facebook friends! I have like 60 of you now! I write lists when you tag me! Facebook has swept the dog agility world by storm. If you are a dog agility lady, or man, you need to have a Facebook because you are missing out on, uh, really not sure what actually, but you are missing out.
The Bernadette from Obay Shelties did this sneaky tag blog business. Of course I will obey Bernadette, because some day I will go to England and show up with Team Small Dog all stuffed into one sherpa bag and I'm staying on her couch. So I will follow her rules so she likes me. She has super world champion shelties and also has sheltie puppies that you can see pictures of in her blog. Maybe she has even tagged you, so you should go check. She is one powerful sheltie lady.
What is this tagging crap about?
Open a document or file folder. You can pick whichever one you want because I am nice that way, maker of these tagging rules. This is assuming your computer is organized and you actually use things like folders.
Click on the fifth folder and then the fifth photo. But also, if it isn't the fifth, you can do it while you are drinking a fifth of scotch and this counts, if you are still able to count.
Post the photo and describe it, and it is ok if you totally lie.
Then tag 5 other bloggers. Whether they read your blog or not since it is possible they will have no idea that you tagged them. Because tagging is sort of weird and at first I was like, HUH? And now I'm like, oh yeah. Tagging and Hi Bernadette, we sure would like to visit England some day and have your shelties kick our asses big time!
Well, I have a mac and it is not organized, but this was the fifth picture in the picture folder. I like to call it Fifth of Scotch.
I am holding Gustavo up so he looks as much like a bat as possible, and to get this photo, I had my computer sitting on the counter and let Otterpop and Ruby sit on the KITCHEN TABLE and then the computer timer counts down THREE - TWO - ONE and I would run back over to the table to get there in time and hold Gustavo up like a bat. I think my skin looks less wrinkly in this picture than it does right now.
So now I'll tag you and Bernadette will totally kick your ass if you disobey. Right, Bernadette?
Heather from Elite Forces of Fuzzy Destruction
Ellen from Taj Mutthall
Elayne from Days of Speed and Slow Time Mondays
Vici of KVK9
Three Woofs and a Woo Food Lady
4 comments:
OK, wait, I did this with the 6th photo in the 6th folder last time someone tagged, me, here; do I have to do it again with the 5th in the 5th?? And then will someone ask for the 4th in the 4th? The 8th in the 8th? The 362nd in the 362nd? I am probably enough of a photography insane person to be able to do that one, too, but I'll have to wait for another day for the 5th of 5th.
Plus, if I may as always ramble on too much here in your comments area which is supposed to be about your post, I'll mention that others who want an equally clear but different post about "tagging" can read the Taj MuttHall version from 2007 here.
And meanwhile, your 5th of 5th is class TSD, classic. The horse in the background really adds something. And Gustavo does look batlike, so I think your artistic vision succeeded.
It is ok not to do the tag! Just watch out for Bernadette if you ever start going to dog agility shows in England.
Oh that really made me laugh! Thanks!
PS you are welcome on the couch anytime. We would even give you a guest room if you are very well behaved!
Alright. I am now embarassed. I did your little tagging. Although I consider the photo slightly pornographic I posted it anyway. I don't like bad karma and Bernadette sounds like she could take me out. I may be in Europe one day and when I meet her I'm going to tell her that it's your fault that one of my appendages ended up on the internet.
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