What In The Blue Hell Is A Liebster Award?

So I’ve been nominated for a Liebster Award and have absolutely no idea what that means.

As far as I can tell it’s either the blogging equivalent of a well earned pat on the back from one of your peers, or the blogging equivalent of a chain email elderly relatives are compelled to pass on.

With age comes wisdom
“Send it to Travis! He loves girls and cups!”

Perhaps it’s both.

Regardless, the fantastically witty shapelle at 1in12million was gracious and savvy enough to nominate me for this (possibly) prestigious award.
That’s a good enough reason for me to talk about myself put in the minimal amount of effort required and pass it on.

As far as I can tell the Liebster process goes like this…
Be nominated for the award by a fantastically brilliant wordsmith.
Answer the 11 questions posed to you by said brilliant wordsmith.
Ask 11 of your own questions to 11 other brilliant nominees of your choosing.

So. Here. We. Go.

What is your stupidest fear?

Marauders. Mad Max/Road Warrior style marauders. More specifically Mad Max/Road Warrior style marauders circling my home to get at my most prized possessions.


What is your go-to dress up costume?

Cowboy. Failing that, pirate. Both take very little effort as most of the attire necessary to pull off these costumes are already part of my regular clothing rotation.
Which may be a concern…

On a (vaguely interesting) side note, I have successfully “played” Captain Jack Sparrow, on occasion, at children’s birthday parties.

The last time, which was on New Years Day, I had a parent congratulate me on my performance and ask if I were an actor. To which I replied, in full Jack Sparrow slur/swagger/costume: “Well, since you ask, I’m actually highly intoxicated you see, and possibly completely hungover at the same time. THAT my friend, takes skill. Savvy?”

I’m a class act.

How many pairs of shoes do you own and how do you feel about that?

3. A pair of red Converse high tops. A pair of black Converse high tops. And, to mix it up, a pair of black Doc Martens I’ve owned for over a decade. Up until a year ago the Doc Martens were the only shoes I owned.

I’ve never really thought about the number of shoes I put my feet into. But now that I am, I’m oddly self conscious about it. Is my number too low? Too high?
How does the theory go? Men multiply their number by 3, women divide theirs by 3?

What is your favourite book?

I’m going to cheat and say it’s a throw down between My Wicked, Wicked Ways by Errol Flynn; his autobiography. And the epically historic fiction of Shogun by James Clavell.

With Errol Flynn being a personal hero of mine My Wicked, Wicked Ways is my bible. I love his cavalier attitude to, well, everything. His spirit of adventure is unconquerable. And, of course, his roguish charm and way with the ladies is unsurpassed. It’s an honest/entertaining introspective from a man, who happens to be an amazing storyteller, recalling his own life to himself.

Shogun is brilliant for a myriad of reasons. It ticks all the usual adjectives used when describing a great historical fiction novel: Epic, grand, sweeping, sensual, lush, saga, etc… but at its heart it is simply a narrative about one man’s quest/drive to survive in a world of rigid rules and shifting alliances.

I’m not talking about the English sailor John Blackthorne, who on the surface seems to be the books protagonist. I’m talking about Yoshinaga Toranaga, who on the surface seems to be the books antagonist.

There’s a definite reason the title is Shogun and not Sailor.

Toranaga spends the best part of 1,152 pages emphatically stating that he has no desire to become Shogun, only to reveal in the last few pages that this was his goal all along. Brilliant!

That may’ve contained spoilers.

If you could be an inanimate object for a day, what would it be?

Easy: The Sphinx.

Thousands of people, from every corner of the globe, looking up at me in awe. Pondering my enigmatic purpose. Asking themselves how/why I was made. Knowing full well they’ll never decipher the mysterious mysteries locked within. All the while I look beyond such trivial nonsense, completely nonplussed at all of the attention directed toward me, into an uncertain future.

Would you rather waltz or do the robot?

I’d rather sit this one out. I’m no dancer.

What colour are your sheets? Seriously, I’m curious. There doesn’t seem to be a correct colour for sheets. Mine are currently purple. Is that weird?

Black. Though I only have a singular sheet. My bed linen sandwich is pretty simple; mattress, sheet, me, doona/duvet. Though when changing my sheet I have been known to complete the first half of the task, the removal, then get distracted by something shiny and sleep sans sheet until I muster the sheer force of will to complete the quest.

The possibility of bedly companionship usually speeds up this process.

Also, I do not think having purple sheets is weird at all. I mean, they have to be some colour.

Think of a country you’ve never been to. Tell me something you know/think/feel/wonder about it.

Japan. I wonder how the dual, seemingly polar opposite, aspects of the new/high tech blend with the old/traditional and how it plays out in real time.

I also wonder if I could find peace there.

If you had to marry and spend your life with one famous person without meeting them first, who would it be?

Tough call.
I mean, do you choose someone with enough intelligence to keep you stimulated?
Like Henry Rollins.
Do you choose someone with enough beauty to keep you entranced?
Like Jennifer Connelly.
Do you choose someone with enough heart to keep the passion alive?
Like Bono.
Do you choose someone with enough naive innocence to keep you protective?
Like Hilary Duff?
Do you choose someone with enough strength to keep you safe?
Like Thor
Do you choose someone with just enough sluttiness to keep you unsure of yourself?
Like Stripped era Christina Aguilera?

Or do you choose Supergirl and get all of the above?

The answer
The answer is yes. You choose Supergirl.

If you had to move alone to a liveable but unpopulated planet, what would you bring: a towel, a bible, or a cat?

A towel may be useful to cover a cold body, a bible may be useful to fuel a warm fire, but a cat?

(For reasons unknown I assume I’m dropped on this hypothetical planet naked as the day I was born and I’m cold.)

A cat is a companion man. Well, not just any cat but my cat.

Xena; one of my oldest and dearest friends. We’ve been through so many ups and downs together it’s solidified our friendship into an unbreakable bond. A bond that is as strong as the mightiest steel and as enduring as, um, the mightiest steel.

Plus, if I can’t catch/find anything to eat…

Gimme a quote. Gimme.

Peace, love, empathy” – Kurt Cobain.

Granted, these 3 words were part of a suicide note sign off so, depending on your personal view, your mileage may vary but I find them oddly profound. So much so that I had them permanently tattooed down the length of my spine.

Simple, concise and wearily reflective. And painful to achieve.

These 3 words are what I want my life to be about.


Now onto my questions for my nominees…

  • Why do you do the job you get paid for?
  • Do you think the world we live in is as awesome as it could be? Why?/Why Not?
  • You can only listen to one album for the rest of your life. What is it?
  • Do you prefer the winter or the summer?
  • Do you subscribe to the theory that Jennifer Aniston is a dried up husk of unhappiness and need?
  • Contentment is the enemy of progression. Do you have any thoughts on this assertion?
  • Aside from the bullshit things everyone always says – spiders/heights/public speaking/etc – what is your biggest fear?
  • When on holiday/vacation; Do you take more photographs of the people you meet or the places you see?
  • Are you happy?
  • Why do you think Rihanna is still with Chris Brown?
  • What is the meaning of life?

I think that covers a fairly broad spectrum of topics.

I would like to nominate, and pose these questions to, the following brave souls throwing up their thoughts bravely onto the internet for all the world to see.

That’s it. I haven’t nominated 11 blogs. Nor have I necessarily chosen blogs with only a few followers. If that deems me invalid for this “award” so be it.
I have, however, chosen writers that I feel are earnest. Which, in all honestly, is severely lacking in the blogosphere.

That’s it peeps, I’m out.

Oh, if there were any questions up there that you would like to respond to, by all means sound off below. I’d honestly love to hear other peoples thoughts/feelings/feedback.

Author: Travis Nevers

Just another random blogger trying to make his way in this crazy world we all share. Sometimes insightful, sometimes not... Read along at home!

17 thoughts on “What In The Blue Hell Is A Liebster Award?”

  1. Fab job! I like that both our question sets reference Hitchhiker’s Guide, whether you meant to or not. I’ll share a secret with you – I have the same bed-sandwich combo. I feel top-sheets are a recipe for waking up strangled, as are loose-fitting pyjamas. But my inanimate object would have been a cctv camera in an interesting location, so kinda opposite of yours but on same spectrum. I wanna watch, you wanna be watched. You exhibitionist you!

    1. Any references to Hitchhiker’s Guide are completely unintentional as I’ve never see/read anything about it ever. What references did I inadvertently hit?

      It’s the best bed/sandwich combo for the very reasons you just mentioned!
      I had an ex, well I still do, that had a pillow top mattress/sheet/me/sheet/blanket/doona combo. All rigidly tucked in so tight you had to enter it like it was an envelope. It was madness.

      Hey, it’s our differences that make the world such an interesting place to live! I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. Not even on an uninhabited planet with only my cat for company.

        1. If you only knew…

          So the meaning of life is 42? Well, I may as well strike that from the list and call off all future philosophy classes!

          Still, the far more important “Jennifer Aniston” conundrum remains unsolved.

          1. I thought for a sec there that maybe Jennifer Aniston was 42 and therefore the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, but unfortch it turns out she’s two years past that expiry date. Perhaps she is the singularity? If the ever gets a baby in there the world will collapse in on itself?

            1. Ha, that would’ve been far too perfect.
              But in all seriousness, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the world did indeed collapsed in on itself upon news of an Aniston pregnancy.
              Simply out of shock if nothing else.

  2. wow, I think this is the most well done liebster award I’ve seen. Thanks for nominating me, that’s very kind of you

  3. Travis, I really appreciate the nomination and hope that you’ve stopped by to read my answers to your questions 🙂 I always enjoy the opportunity to pay forward goodness. Thank you again! Best, Meg

    1. I have indeed stopped by to read your answers! And, with the exception of the “One Album” question, you answered my nonsense questions honestly and earnestly. And thoughtfully.
      I like that.

      You’re alright Meg. I wish for nothing but success for you. Well deserving of a Liebster! 😉

      1. Yeah, I had to make up my own rules on that one 🙂 Would it have helped if I named artists the mix would include?

        I really enjoyed participating in this and thank you for the opportunity!


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