I was tagged last night by Mr Anthrope. Unfortunately, he disclosed that he isn't Kevin Costner, so April and I will have to wait a while yet to fly low over Pioneer Woman and Marlboro Man's ranch, buzz the cattle and scream our helloes and wave like maniacs. Now, tagging means I have to provide 8 random facts about myself, and then leave comments on 8 other blogs to ask permission / inform the blog-owners that they have been tagged. This feels a bit too much effort on an unusually sunny afternoon in sunny Derbyshire, so, I shall compromise! Here are not just 8, but 100 random facts about me. And I shall spend the rest of the afternoon dozing sleepily in the sunshine on the terrace whilst pretending to mull over which blogs to tag.
I suppose I shouldn't list my real favourites - this might expose my witty, urbane and charming readership to the lowbrow, gutter mentality of the blogs I most enjoy reading. I especially like blogs that detail the damage done by the family dog to furniture, especially if the bloggers actually upload pictures of the carnage. There's nothing quite like a sofa ripped to shreds by an enthusiastic Jack Russell left too long alone. I make a point of showing Merci Beaucoup Enfant Deux each story, in the continuing effort to justify my "rehoming" of our two Jack Russells during her trip to Barcelona five years ago. And I really like ranty blogs that show rude photographs of slebrities falling out of their clothes when attempting to leave crack dens thinly disguised as exclusive nightclubs. "Oh just look at this slapper," I cry.
So I shall spend some time finding terribly marvellous blogs, and post 8 up later.