Tuesday, April 26, 2011

If only I had known...!

Have you ever wondered what other people really think of you? Neither have I! No, that's not quite true, actually, and I often wonder whether the course of my life might not have been very different if some well-intentioned and disinterested soul had told me how others perceived me and how, for example, I could avoid unwittingly giving offence. The trouble is, the people who know you well enough to give a valid opinion are, almost by definition, your family and friends. A fat chance of getting an honest answer from them!

Well, there's an app for that and it's called Failin.gs: 
It's a webapp that will let your friends and family anonymously post their issues with you so you can be aware of them without taking it personally.


Of course, Failin.gs isn't trying to incite an anonymous, personal flamewar against you. Once you create your profile and link it with Facebook or Twitter (if you want—you don't have to), you can send it to your friends to get personal feedback. As your friends type, Failin.gs will remind them to be kind and constructive rather than mean. You can then check your profile for new comments and sort them into different bins (I agree, I had no idea, and I disagree). 
http://lifehacker.com/#!5795477/failings-helps-you-improve-yourself-by-letting-your-friends-anonymously-tell-you-why-you-suck

It sounds a good idea but I don't think it would work in my case. I've got so few friends that I'm pretty sure I could work out who wrote the "anonymous" message. And then I would have even fewer friends!




6 comments:

  1. Anonymous4:43 pm

    But you've got lots of family and of course we all think you rank up there with sliced bread!
    I'm sure my fellow anons will agree, won't you .................

    ReplyDelete
  2. Of course, I suppose I could always write my own comments and post them under "Anonymous".

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous8:35 pm

    At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
    That I always have found it best,
    Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
    To let 'em rest unexpressed,
    I hate parading my serenading
    As I'll probably miss a bar,
    But if this ditty is not so pretty
    At least it'll tell you
    How great you are.

    You're the top!
    You're the Coliseum.
    You're the top!
    You're the Louver Museum.
    You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
    You're a Bendel bonnet,
    A Shakespeare's sonnet,
    You're Mickey Mouse.
    You're the Nile,
    You're the Tower of Pisa,
    You're the smile on the Mona Lisa
    I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
    But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!

    Your words poetic are not pathetic.
    On the other hand, babe, you shine,
    And I can feel after every line
    A thrill divine
    Down my spine.
    Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
    Might think that your song is bad,
    But I got a notion
    I'll second the motion
    And this is what I'm going to add;

    You're the top!
    You're Mahatma Gandhi.
    You're the top!
    You're Napoleon Brandy.
    You're the purple light
    Of a summer night in Spain,
    You're the National Gallery
    You're Garbo's salary,
    You're cellophane.
    You're sublime,
    You're turkey dinner,
    You're the time, the time of a Derby winner
    I'm a toy balloon that’s fated soon to pop
    But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
    You're the top!

    You're the top!
    You're an arrow collar
    You're the top!
    You're a Coolidge dollar,
    You're the nimble tread
    Of the feet of Fred Astaire,
    You're an O'Neill drama,

    You're Whistler's mama!

    You're camembert.

    You're a rose,
    You're Inferno's Dante,

    You're the nose
    On the great Durante.
    I'm just in a way,
    As the French would say, "de trop".
    But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
    You're the top!

    You're the top!
    You're a dance in Bali.
    You're the top!
    You're a hot tamale.
    You're an angel, you,
    Simply too, too, too diveen,
    You're a Boticcelli,
    You're Keats,
    You're Shelly!

    You're Ovaltine!
    You're a boom,
    You're the dam at Boulder,
    You're the moon,
    Over Mae West's shoulder,
    I'm the nominee of the G.O.P.

    Or GOP!

    But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
    You're the top!

    You're the top!
    You're a Waldorf salad.
    You're the top!
    You're a Berlin ballad.
    You're the boats that glide
    On the sleepy Zuider Zee,
    You're an old Dutch master,

    You're Lady Astor,
    You're broccoli!
    You're romance,
    You're the steppes of Russia,
    You're the pants, on a Roxy usher,
    I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,

    But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
    You're the top!

    Cole Porter
    You're The Top Lyrics

    ReplyDelete
  4. Well, thank you kindly, Anonymous and Cole Porter!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Anonymous11:44 pm

    You're not talking to yourself again, are you, Mr. Dunn?

    English Anon.

    ReplyDelete
  6. It says something about the size of my readership when my sister can identify herself beyond any shadow of doubt simply by signing herself "English Anon".

    ReplyDelete

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