You are a Theory Slut. The true elite of the
postmodernists, you collect avant-garde
Indonesian hiphop compilations and eat journal
articles for breakfast. You positively live
for theory. It really doesn't matter what
kind, as long as the words are big and the
paragraph breaks few and far between.
What kind of postmodernist are you!?
brought to you by Quizilla
posted by Sonja 10:57 AM
Are you damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey
You will die a warrior and be spirited away by warbling wenches to the Hall of the Slain. Meat and mead for ever more, well until Ragnarok, anyway, when you will do battle with giants, giantesses, dwarfs, elves and Nidhug, a dragon who likes to nibble trees. Odin is great!
posted by Sonja 10:11 AM
Which Survivor of the Impending Nuclear Apocalypse Are You?
A Rum and Monkey joint.
The blast must have hit you particularly strong, because you've gained a billion new superpowers and can take on anyone you want. Even that kid Gunrock-with-nine-arms from down the street. Only problem is, it's driven you completely insane and you now have a thirst for blood equalled only by your thirst for vengeance and peeing in the kitchen bin.
No, stop! That's what the toilet's for. Stop I say!
posted by Sonja 10:02 AM
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.
Born with the name of Otto, you became Ludwig at the request of your grandfather, King Ludwig I, because you were born on his birthday. You became Crown Prince at the tender age of 3, and soon after stole a purse from a shop on the basis that everything in Bavaria belonged to you. Tragedy struck when your pet tortoise was taken away; relatives thought the six-year-old prince was too attached to it. Your childhood was lonely and formal. Once, you were prevented from beheading your younger brother by the timeous arrival of a court official. From the age of 14 you suffered from hallucinations.
Despite striking an imposing figure with your great height and good looks, your speeches were pompous to the point of incomprehensibility. You became even more of a recluse, often spending hours reading poetry in a seashell-shaped boat in your electrically-illuminated underground grotto.
You are most famous for building three fairytale castles - Linderhof, Neuschwanstein and Herrenchiemsee - at tremendous public expense. Declared insane and confined to your bedroom by concerned (and embarrassed) subjects, you escaped on 13 June 1886, but were later found drowned with your physician in Lake Stamberg in mysterious circumstances.
posted by Sonja 9:52 AM
Here I am. This is me. (but not really)
posted by Sonja 7:44 PM
