And so the cursor is

And so the cursor is blink[en]ing. Do I have something to say? Do I need to say anything? is anyone out there, oh wait, there's JJ selecting all > right mouse click > copy > pasting quotes. Yay. you know, if anyone's gonna steal the stuff i've stolen, I'm happy it's the J-ster. yes, I just called you the "j-star".

That old question "if you were an animal, which animal would you be?" can be answered in two ways. The first way being, which animal are you most like. The second way is, which animal would you most like to be. Normally I answer the question with "Penguin" because I love the idea of sliding 'round on my tummy in the snow, and not feeling cold, and swimming like a bullet underwater. Actually, I think I can answer both versions of the question that way - if we remove the "swimming under water like a bullet" and, well, I'm not overly fond of snow - wet cold stuff it is. But apart from that.

Until I remember, penguins can't fly. Which isn't a problem if you don't think about it because you're just there, smiling happily, imagining the slid[en]ing and the swim[en]ning. The problem begins when you flick the TV channel and find David Attenborough talking about the many hundreds of miles that penguins walk. Pardon? What did you say? walk? WALK? As I was explaining to my bus driver lady person the other day , we takers-of-public-transport and closet penguin'rs, don't LIKE to walk. No sir. We need to be dropped off there, by the Pole, not here by the driveway. Heaven forbid there are step[en]ning movements. So, either, Penguins need to learn to fly, or, they need a Howick Pakuranga Number 52 bus to drive past their Pole.

"oh, for god's sake, enough with the navel-gazing psychoanalysis...turn into the hulk already!" the rest of tequilamockingbird...