1. If given the chance, how would you accouter yourself?
2. If you could choose any place, where would you be the happiest?
On Gilda, here…
3. What is a quality you abhor in the person wearing you?
4. What is something you oft think about?
Has a woman ever gone to the doctor and asked for Chris Bosh’s, perfect lips?
A fodder friend.
6. What’s a “fodder friend”?
I’m glad you asked. The person people seem to keep around as a friend mainly to talk about how (insert appropriate adjective) they are behind their back.
7. Sounds dreadful. How does one avoid it?
Never travel in packs. The pack mentality is where it breeds.
8. Oh, my god. I just had an awful thought. What if I’m a fodder friend?
Oof… I mean, I know you like a know a hole in the head — that’s if I had a head — however, know this: ignorance is bliss. I believe that to be true. So does every other lover of clichés, but whatever… The luckiest person in this world is the one void of any introspection, the one who for the life of them can’t see or refuses to see who they truly are at their core. You’re all better off living in complete and total denial. Plus, it gives us garments and accessories something to talk about. You guys are weird.
9. Wait. So, are you basically saying we humans are fodder friends to you guys?
Ah, ssshh… I always say too much. I’m gonna catch hell for this.