Accent: Soft English, often mistaken for undefined European.
Booze: I prefer Shiraz or a very dry Chardonnay.
Chore I hate: Putting on my armor and getting ready in the morning. I am never sure if there is something stuck to me – dregs from the food last night, loose hairs, cat smudge, the bathroom door….whatever. I’m never sure if I look ironed enough. I’m bothered that the limited makeup I’m wearing might be smudging.
Dog or cat: Cog. Well actually, a big dog — bull terrier or German Shepherd preferably.
Essential electronics: Computer with a link to the Internet.
Favourite cologne(s): A variety of French fragrances bought for me by Mike.
Gold or silver: Gold.
Hometown: As yet I have no home. Can I have yours?
Insomnia: Rarely. I tend to sleep through anything, no matter how loud, although I will wake up to check it out initially if and when the noise is loud enough.
Job title: Worker
Kids: Go well with goats.
Living arrangements: I share my homestead with two or three barbarians
Most admirable trait: I don’t give in.
Number of sexual partners: I’m going to regret, when I am well-aged, that I had too few.
Overnight hospital stays: Being born, tonsilitis, appendicitis, ass-hole surgery.
Phobias: Black wall spiders which move fast. That my brain will rot in a clerical job.
Quote: Better to die standing on your feet than to live on your knees!
Religion: Just say no.
Siblings: They do.
Time I wake up: now and then
Unusual talent or skill: sadza measuring
Vegetable I refuse to eat: This isn’t a vegetable, but I don’t like those eggs of Cod.
Worst habit: Over-preparation for each single engagement. (e.g. I’m not sure if what I put on has since got dirty, or if I’ve forgotten to take with me something essential, like my credit card.)
X-rays: Knee, gut.
Yummy foods I make: God makes all my food.
Zodiac sign: Up there in the sky — under my pyjamas