Are you a frat boy?
I've been reading lately about various bloggers meeting up with various other bloggers and going out to tea and for drinks. Lane met some bloggers in London (and was strictly warned by her teen-age daughter, Be careful of people you meet on the Internet!). I think Aims met up with some bloggers in the wilds of Canada, and now Conortje is going back to Ireland for the weekend and is meeting a whole group of them.
I have had several bloggers send me presents--chocolate, cookies, tea, toys for the dogs, DVDs, a set of periwinkle blue dessert plates. Please feel absolutely free to keep sending me stuff.
But have I ever met any of you? Nope. Except for Amy. But I didn't technically meet her through a blog. (Though it was, indeed, through the interweb.)
Doug is convinced that all bloggers, everywhere--as well as all people in chatrooms, MySpace, Bebo, and everywhere else on the Web--are frat boys. And not just any old frat boys--drunken frat boys.
He pictures them crowded around a computer in a dorm room, caps on backwards, university sweatshirts dripped with mustard and pizza sauce, swigging Bud Lite from cans and chortling as they make up personas and post them online. I'll call myself Ped Crossing! Hahahahaha!
Me, I'm the Rotten Correspondent!
Yeah, i'll call myself Faye! (Here all the other frat boys fall silent, heads swivel. "Faye" blushes and takes a hasty glug of beer.)
Years ago, one of my sisters decided to meet the man she'd met in a chatroom about growing roses. He had told her that he was the son of an Irish lord who had grown up in County Mayo and London.
Fratboyfratboyfratboyfratboyfratboy Doug muttered to me under his breath.
Guess what? Turns out the guy really is Anglo-Irish, his family really does have land in the West of Ireland, and he and my sister have been together now for years.
Coming Friday: The winners of the second occasional Three Dog Blog competition!
32 Leave a message!:
I am not a frat boy, Doug. I'm a boring, 41 year old mother of three children, two dogs and two cats. I keep house, raise children and pick up after hubby. The blog is for my sanity.
Who in their right mind would send you dessert plates? I mean, really!
as if i need any more incentive to eat dessert.
Well you can just tell Doug from me that I find that characterisation highly offensive! I would never drink Lite beer.
But I must admit that my handle of Willowtree certainly does fit the frat-boy image...Chug!Doug!chug!
Oh, and while we're at it, I would never want to meet someone from the interwebs, I'll stick to checking public toilets for phone numbers thank you! It's worked well for me so far.
Didn't Tim Robbins play a frat boy in a movie once? I'm pretty sure the chicks all dug it.
Besides, on any given weekend at work I take care of lots of Bud Lite guzzling frat boys. And not one of them can pronounce correspondent. Much less spell it.
I love Doug's image!! Really made me laugh.
I know someone who met an on-line friend in person. When she did, it was over breakfast on a day she was working. She told everyone there who she was meeting and where and that if she wasn't at work by ten to call the police. They have been together for several years now, and are very happy!
p.s. If you are ever out this way you can come meet us and he can see that we are real, and like Kaycie says, boring.
I'll let you know after the weekend if his theory is true :-)
OhMyGod - you mean my darling Hullaballoo is a bloke! (We don't have frat boys in England, or any of that weird fraternity stuff.)
I'll have to look more closely. Certainly when we when to tea with Ms Melancholy and Stray from Chasing Sheep they all SEEMED to be medium to short women.
BTW, Perhaps I ought to send you some English Golden Syrup to go with your dessert plates.
Dessert plates? DVDs? Hm. Please tell me, you'll think hard about who's going to win the competition. And that it has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with who sent the dessert plates.
Ha, and I love the idea that we could all be frat boys. Not that there are any frat boys in Ireland. But then, maybe I don't live in Ireland at all... muahahaaa.....
Nope, I'm 50 next week (gulp) and most definitely female.
lol at 'frat boys'. (I think I know what one is, sort of:-)
The Teenager refused to believe that everyone was who they said they were, until I came back with photographic evidence:-)
(Your sister struck lucky:-)
LOL, Doug. Doug should meet all of us, and then he'd change his mind. Besides, frat boys are too busy doing, uh...other things. I would make a lousy frat boy. Not only can I not drink at the moment, I'm not inclined to do much of anything party related. Half the time, I'm not motivated to do anything blog related!
And damn, if I wasn't married, I'd want to meet an Anglo-Irish guy. Your sister struck gold, there, girl
Damn, there's my cover blown! Like, yeah, I'm a frat boy and so what? Me and my pals had a few beers and thought blogging would be a bit of a laugh. Whatever. And I'm from Paris, Texas, not that it's anyone's business.....
you guys are all making me laugh!
babaloo--dumdad--WT.
and bobo, i'd love some syrup. i'll add it to my treasure trove of Gifts from Frat Boys.
I'm old enough to be the mother of a frat boy; in fact, as I like to say, if I had started having kids as early as Loretta Lynn did, I'd be old enough to be the grandmother of a frat boy. I do like beer and wine, though. Call me Faye.
Frat boys? That's too friggin funny. We could start a frat boys fraternity. No, wait, that's redundant. Maybe a frat boys sorority. If we're frat boys, then WT and Dumdad and anyone else of the opposite sex could belong to our sorority.
Now we just need an official drink. I don't like beer anymore. Not since the mud wrestling incident.
Thanks, Laurie.
We are not frat boys. Mommy and Daddy are not frat boys. Tiki and Mommy are not even boys. Daddy does sometimes drink lite beer in the summer when it is 90 degrees out. We prefer water or tuna juice. Kesey is part cat, so he likes tuna juice too.
Riley, Tiki, & Kesey
I'm more of a sorority girl.
I've only a vague idea of what a frat boy is, but I thought we were all saddos or pervs? Not right. I've met some bloggers and they are lovely. They seem very normal ... at least within the parameters of what I consider normal.
Jjx
I guess I am really naive, because it had never dawned on me that anybody was anybody else but who they said they were, of the bloggers anyway. I assume you all are exactly who you say you are, as am I. As a matter of fact, you people probably know the true me better than anyone else, except for Eduard possibly.
I am never going to think that any of you are frat boys, and if you are, you are keeping up a tremendously good facade and I don't see how it can be done. If, however, it can be done, then you must believe in it yourself and I welcome you with open arms anyway.
Laurie, I know you are as real as apple pie and the flag of the United States, I would never doubt you were anybody else but you. But whoever you are, I love reading your blog and wouldn't miss it for the world. So, tell Doug that it is true love!
Dang, Doug figured it out. Except we don't drink light beer. We keep that for the girls. ;)
Oh wait, that was 17 years ago and I was never a boy. And I didn't drink light beer then either.
I thought we were all serial killers and axe murderers!
Loved that you used my pseudonym, it made me laugh.
Okay--we can be the Hound Dawg Frats and live in a Cat House to cover all leanings.
I wish my blogging life was a little bit more mysterious, but I got in too deep before learning the secrets of avitars--actually not sure I know what that is, but I want one. . .
wouldn't you all be shocked if you found out that i'm really ..... a cat lover???
You know my story - I've been blogging about it for some time now - I've met not only other bloggers - but men that I met in chat rooms! Gasp! Shriek! Oh My's all around!
I've lived to tell the tale - and one in particular has changed my life (but I haven't got to that part of the story yet)
I'm definitely not a frat boy!
Well, we sure can find out, Laurie. When I come up to visit, I'll bring Lucy and Streudel. Then we'll see who is a cat lover.
You're a very bad liar, aren't you?
Laurie, that really is shocking. Very shocking. And Riley and Boscoe are really the neighbours' dogs who like posing for photos.
I'm really a billionaire philanthropist with lots of time on my hands...
....and I'm a 29 year old willowy blond with a gazillion dollars! Ha!
I did meet a fellow blogger when I was on holiday in Peru. Lovely person - we had lots in common - and she was the furthest thing from a frat boy!
I hve met up with four other bloggers who live within a couple of hours' drive from me and it is great. A very strange mixture of "Do I know these people?" and "Gosh, how well I know these people."
Got another one coming with her family to stay in our holiday cottage later this year and can't wait to meet her. I would really recommend it. You'd have to be an amazingly compelling liar with time on your hands to construct a persona over months. Admit my husband was a bit freaked by it to begin with.
I have several friends who met their true love on the internet and are happily married now.
Could you throw me a beer? *belch*
I'm not a frat boy but I wish I had some land in the west of Ireland...or any other part of it!
Wow, Doug described me pretty well. But I clean up good.
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