Okay, it’s late at night, I have a long train journey in front of me, and I feel like answering any questions that you have.
The rules are simple. Ask a question, I give you an answer of varying trughines, and I demand payment, ironic or otherwise.
Have at it.
What does trughines mean?
That is correct. Verdammt autocorrect.
Well, I just got a new phone so I have to train my autocorrect… if such a thing really can be done.
ETA: I don’t have any questions right now.
Autocorrect can be trained, but it needs a plentiful supply of tripe rations, a steady hand and a convenient shop.
Either that, or a copious amount of swear words.
Why purple? Genetics, or Manic Panic incident?
The name is actually a reference to a book. Don’t worry, nobody has ever told me that they have worked it out.
If they did, I might just have to change it.
You owe the cat a super-intelligent shade of the colour blue.
That Jimi Hendrix song “If 6 Was 9”; what the hell was that song all about anyhow?
You must be on the other side of the world from where I am, right?
(Here. it’s late afternoon,)
Oh man, what wasn’t that song about?
You owe the cat your memories of 1968. I don’t have mine, because I was there, man.
Must it be refracted into a free standing prism?
Why does the doctor have men turn their heads before coughing when checking for a hernia? [ I know answer – this is a quiz ]
The don’t want to get coughed on?
Yeah, I’m rocking UTC+1 at the moment. The world is a smallish place in these internet connected times, isn’t it.
You owe the cat time zones. All of them.
That’s not a question. So in its stead, I’ll tell you about the times I met Alan Moore. He’s a good bloke, stands up for local libraries and buys groceries for homeless folk.
You owe the cat a glow in the dark sausage.
They’re checking for hernias and don’t want you to cough on them. Because that is nasty if you have something else that they haven’t diagnosed yet.
You owe the cat some brain bleach. Now.
What is the airspeed velocity of a (European) unladen swallow?