Interview game
The Rules.
1. Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2. I will respond; I’ll ask you five questions.
3. You’ll update your website with my five questions, and your five answers.
4. You’ll include this explanation.
5. You’ll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.
Courtesy of Caroline.
1. The world’s going to end tomorrow. A number of us are escaping destruction on a space ship – going where no man has gone before. You may choose a person, a book, a CD, a flower and an animal. What/who will they be?
Person: I’d take D. Of course. Without a doubt. Where would I be without her?
Book: If they don’t have replicators on that space ship, I’d bring a cook book. Otherwise, I’d let D. bring one of her books, because I’m not much of a reader myself.
CD: That’s just impossible. One CD? Okay, at this moment, I’d choose Radiohead – Hail to the Thief. But if you ask me again in a couple of weeks time, you’ll probably get a different answer.
Flower: Can I bring a plant instead? Like a ficus? Love my ficus. No living room is complete without a ficus.
Animal: A cat, definitely. Been catless myself for a couple of years now, so I’ll bring Mono, D’s cat. She won’t come with me if her cat’s not coming, so I don’t have much choice anyway…
2. Do you know any drummer jokes?
What do you call a person who always hangs around with musicians? A drummer. Har har.
3. What is your favourite episode of BtVS?
OMWF. Without a doubt. It made me laugh, it made me—well, not cry, boys don’t cry, but I was moved. And it did so the second time I saw it. And the third. Best. Ep. Ever.
4. Most embarrassing moment?
Tucked away in my sub-concience, waiting to be dug out by a 700 euro per half hour psycho-analyst, who would probably laugh and shout “You did WHAT?!?” at me on the exact moment I start to open up a bit…
5. Recall a favourite memory from your childhood.
I think I was about 8 years old. One night I went to bed very sad. I don’t remember why, but I was crying like a baby. There I was, lying in bed, sobbing. Then my cat, a big fat black & white cat called Droopie, jumped on my bed en walked up to my head. He gave me a ‘kopje’ (geez, how do you translate that?), crawled under the blankets and fell asleep beside me. I wasn’t sad anymore.
Reacties
“Kopje” is probably “head-butt,” but I like kopje better.
Leuk man!
De vraag is niet of ik geïntervieuwd wil worden, maar of ik de moeite waard ben iets te vragen.