1. Who is the last person on earth the woman currently wearing you would choose to not spend a romantic evening with?
Franksy, Bansky’s jealous, working stiff, dimwit of an older, half-brother who plastered an ecstatic picture of himself next to everything he defaced thus missing the entire point of clandestinely defacing walls, the ground, lamp posts and train cars with a vibrant array of spray paints and sociopolitical cleverness. Or is it facing? I’m still in the dark on what we’re calling it these days. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it art? The curmudgeon liquor store owner would argue its value lies somewhere between $33 worth of paint and the waking of his herniated disc when forced to repaint the wall. Either way, we can all agree that Franksy’s currently on parole for vandalism after a short-lived attempt at raging against the machine. Currently holding a cup of coffee in an office break room located somewhere in Uxbridge, he can be heard saying, “I quite like the machine, really. Don’t mind it one bit, actually. *pause* You gonna finish those crisps?”
2. Who is a person on earth the woman currently wearing you would choose to spend a romantic evening with?
Koen Fillet. But I should let you know she longs for the beard’s return. Nothing says sexy like a contemporary take on protesting, “You idiots wanna be assholes and drag your feet on getting a handle on this government? Well, guess what? A beard’s about to appear and once it does it’s gonna grow and grow and grow… See where I’m going with this? Eh? You’ve been warned.”
3. If given the task of styling yourself what would you choose as the accoutrements?
4. Who is the strangest person you know of?
The man who films his black market purchased cougar preening his rescued, pigmy pony in hopes of putting the video up on YouTube and getting 6,000 hits. In other news, this one’s never been known to dream big. His wife, drying her hands on a dish towel, exits from the kitchen, already asking what he wants for dinner. He sends a slicing hand across his neck, signaling for her to “SHUT UP!” He’s in the middle of making a very important YouTube video for Christ’s sake! The wife does just what she’s aggressively and silently told for she knows the importance of YouTube video silence when it comes to animals doing cute things in backyards, on linoleum kitchen floors and or in carpeted living rooms. After all, Hannah isn’t once again taking a break from doing actual work to listen to these two bicker over the visual of Esther licking mites from Toby’s mane. And if the hedgehog ladies taught us anything, it is to SHUT. YOUR MOUTH. FOR THE LOVE. OF GOD. Nature – even if it involves wild kingdom factions that have no business ever coming together, forced to come together in a Gainesville backyard because a human can’t quite get a handle on the realities of this planet — is a beautiful thing.
4. This might be totally off topic but is it true the hedgehog video spawned a religious cult that was formed in Queens but is now stationed somewhere in the hinterlands of northwestern Costa Rica and the mind-numbing hedgehog video conversation acts as the cult’s morning prayer?
You haven’t lived until you’ve witnessed 1,000, wayward souls reciting that conversation en masse. Funny thing, the woman who’s currently wearing me? Well, her cousin, Eli, is actually going to be filming a documentary on the cult this spring. Word on the street is he’ll be wearing a combination of Patagonia and LL. Bean. I’ll keep you posted.
6. If you could be worn by anyone whom would it be?
And only because I wouldn’t mind adding a bit of refinement to her life, the loud, obnoxious, drunkity drunk young woman in the bar who has the uncanny ability to interrupt a conversation so that she can race into the bathroom, puke, do a bump, return from the bathroom, request a shot of the cheapest thing you got, flash her breasts, consume the shot of the cheapest thing you got, get accidentally slammed into by a prettier, younger woman, proceed by punching prettier, younger woman square in the face, resist arrest, get arrested, spend the night in the clink, get bailed out by her “Thug Life ‘Til I Die” torso-tatted ex-boyfriend, travel to a greasy spoon to consume a spicy breakfast burrito and diet Coke, take part in “thank you” sex with “Thug Life ‘Til I Die” in his murdered-out Escalade as they wait to slang 2 kilos to the head of a local megachurch, slip the head of the local megachurch her number when he picks up his kilos, shoplift a bag of disposable pink Bicks, beef jerky and a Kiwi Strawberry Snapple, read the Real Fact on the Snapple bottle cap, “A crocodile cannot move its tongue,” declare the Real Fact stupid after struggling to pronounce the word “crocodile”, toss the bottle cap out of the window, go to her aunt’s to shower, shave, clip in extensions and place blue rhinestone on the outer corners of both eyes, return to the bar, order a Long Island, give a side-eye to the bruised and bandaged prettier, younger woman whom she punched square in the face the night before and resume the initial conversation from the exact point of departure, “So, what was I saying? Oh yeah. We figured eff it and just killed him.”
7. O-kay. That last part has me a bit concerned and I feel it is my duty to act. Where is the loud, obnoxious, drunkity drunk young woman right now?
Well, naturally one always assumes this type of woman is the result of freesia essence, vanilla musk and a Wild Turkery burp colliding mid-air on a floating island in galaxy far, far away. Come to find out, she was born in Tampa – the result of two gorgeous, low-budget porn stars’ successful attempt at procreation back in ’89. Which, if you really think about it, is the earth’s equivalent of freesia essence, vanilla musk and a Wild Turkery burp colliding mid-air on a floating island in galaxy far, far away.
8. So, she’s currently in Tampa?
9. Thanks. *imposter question* “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”