1.What is your favorite word?
I don't have one, but I tend to take a liking to different words every week, like um ... coffee, ice cream, lemon meringue pie ... um ... oh, sorry, what did you say? I'm not supposed to be talking about what I like to eat? Whoops ... but they're still words, aren't they?
2.What is your least favorite word?
rules (who needs 'em?)
3.What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
Um ... being turned on creatively, spiritually and emotionally? No, seriously now, writing, music, writing, reading, writing, music, reading, um ... sex? What is that again?
4.What turns you off?
My off button. It's located ... um ... somewhere. Let me know when you find it.
5.What is your favorite curse word?
Really? My favourite curse word is a bit offensive. Can I whisper it? (cunt) (I like it because it's still considered taboo - isn't it? And it sounds so much stronger than any of the others, and if you really want to offend someone, 'fuck you' just doesn't work any more. But if you say, 'fuck you cunt', well, that's kinda crossing the line - the waist line to be exact ;o) Oh yeah, and its Greek equivalent: Mounotricha (literally translated: a cunt hair) PS: please don't judge me. I'm just answering a question! *flutters eyelids*
6.What sound or noise do you love?
7.What sound or noise do you hate?
Garbage trucks at 5 a.m!
8.What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Ok, well, I guess I'd like to be either a zoologist or an archaeologist. I actually studied archaeology before I got into English. I bet you didn't know that about me, huh?
9.What profession would you not like to do?
Garbage collector. I just couldn't bear to wake up all those poor writers who stayed up half the night trying to finish their novels.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
God: Don't worry, you're not going to be shoved into an alternate universe, or another body, to be given another chance to rectify all the mistakes you made. You're really dead, and it's really over, so relax, pick a cloud, and go to sleep.
Me: Really? Awesome. Oh ... wait ... does that mean, the man of my dreams, who I was convinced I'd met in another life, really wasn't from another life because I didn't have one? Sheesh. I was so sure we had some kinda cosmic connection. Shame ...
God: Oh, don't worry. Of course, he was. You see, this was your last life. You are perfect. Be proud.