Answer: Is wine fine or is whiskey quicker?

-Wine is fine, whiskey is quicker.
Sufficient champagne
Will get you into my knickers.

-Wine is the only way to go. Whiskey is for toothless people, right?

-Whiskey +gingerale!

-My answer: both or none.

-Wine is fine! Whiskey is going to burn the fuck out of your throat!

-Depends on who’s drinkin’ it.

-2 parts whiskey, 1 part wine, all divine. i can rhyme!

-Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar.

Answer: What would your subliminal dress say?

-”…while we were on our knees, praying that disease would leave the ones we love, and never come again…”- On the Radio- Regina Spektor (We miss you, Mr. B.)

 

-”in the light of all my darkest mornings, things fall into place”  Cherry Came Too by The Jesus and Mary Chain.  (except, i hear “mornings” as “mournings” as my mornings are so cloudy the only thing that falls anywhere is me falling behind… again.  it probably resembles the sunset on monday with the storm and the gold.)

Ed note: many subliminal dresses were a bit long, not fitting with the requested format of a sentence.  While interesting, submits will be held and posted possibly at a later date.

Answers: In 7 words, can you write your memoirs?

Well!  The welcoming party for this week’s guest questioner, The Seductress, got a bit out of hand, as as I suppose all great parties are wont to do.  Wine flies when you’re drinking time, doesn’t it dear friends.  Alas I’m quite sodden from my dip(s) in the fountain and have some ’splaining to do as to why there are sequinned frocks festooning the hedge maze.   But in all, it really was a lovely fete, even if the chandeliers will never quite be the same. 

After many strong cups of coffee, some tea sandwiches and the application of some fresh eyelash glue, I think we are now able to share the answers with you: 

-Just like Max: big show, no results.

-I was nobody until writing my memoirs.

-UK, visualization, atmosphere, specific, unique, music, listener. (In no particular order.)

-Oh shit. Not again; I’ll never learn.

- Experimentation with alternate realities has created stability.

-Projection, preparation, planning; International woman of mystery.

-So many times, tried not to wonder.

-Seven Year Travel Itch, Every Four Years.

-My best just wasn’t ever good enough.

-Do it like you mean it, bitch.

-I am not David Bowie. that sucks.

-Imperfect; yet tried, true and nihilistically benevolent.

-Deciding to be indecisive never works out.

Answers: Where do you kick heaven?

-I sucker-punched heaven once. Now heaven sends an unending string of bastards to kick me in the heart, and we call it even.

-In rehab.

-Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me?

-In the nuts!

-In the teeth.

-I would prefer to finger, rather than kick, heaven.

-Kick heaven in the shin.  There’s something that amuses me about the thought of heaven scowling, hopping up and down on one figurative leg, sucking air between its pearly white teeth.

-Barefoot and outside in the backyard, at night.  Down and dirty and in the eye.

-In the ass.

-At the Methodist clinic.

-I would kick heaven outside of the grocery store while it is carrying a few shopping bags. I’d kick it in the ass and then hopefully have time to run away before it put down the shopping bags to chase me.

-I’ve already kicked heaven. Heaven, as it is classically defined, sounds dreadfully boring.
Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere.

-1998: Heaven refutes my existence and I, it.
  1999: I play the “I’m-not-touching-you” game until the universe smacks me and then we eat brownies and  watch the Simpsons.
 2000: I used to kick heaven. Now, I just beat it with a stick until candy comes out.
 2001:I’m a masochist.  Heaven kicks me and I like it.  Please sir, may I have another?
 2002: Heaven has a restraining order against me. I have a restraining order against heaven.
 2003:June found me at 23rd and Broadway, Madison Square Park.  I stood in the park, took off my stockings, took off my shoes and looked around. I took a deep breath.  This is therapy for the uninsured.  When rich people need therapy, they lay on upholstered couches in Upper East Side psychiatrists’ offices but when you’re down and out, any place will do.  I yelled and yelled and waved my arms aordnu, which is to say, around, but far closer to the actual movement.  Then, I put on my stockings and shoes, picked up my portfolio and got on the N train like the fitter, happier and more productive person I am. 

So to answer the question,I kicked heaven in Madison Square Park, barefoot, in the afternoon, surrounded by sleeping homeless, and while shouting obscenities.  I planted a big one in its dimpled cellulite ass.  Heaven applauded at my vaudeville act and made me lactose-intolerant.

-In the teeth.  Because teeth are easily accessible and there are a lot of them, you can do maximum damage.

Answers: Chemistry Pop Quiz: 1.) What is the halflife of love?

 -The halflife is 42 days for every day spent enamoured, making love a generally slowly decaying compound.  It is important to note that even at halflife, love is still a known Class V carcinogen and the necessary safety equipment must be employed to avoid lovesickness.

-Relative to your carbon footprint: the larger it is, the less you really care.

-Through completely spurious logic, I postulate that the half-life of love can be determined by the sum of the half-lives of the medications which can be used to counteract the symptoms of said “love.”
Note that I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV.  And my encyclopedic knowledge of the below topics and figures therein in no way infers that I looked any of the information up.
 
Amioderone:  Used for heart arrhythmia.  Lambda = 25 Days
Albuterol: Commonly used by asthmatics, this helps when you have your breath taken away.  Lambda = 7 Hours
Digoxin:Counteracts your Heart Flutter and fibrillation.  Lambda = 36 Hours.
Fluoxetine:  Active ingredient in Prozac.  Not only smoothes out your depression and panic, but limits the euphoria endemic to new love.  Lambda = 6 Days.
Kytril: Antinauseal/Antiemetic; Used to counteract butterflies in the stomach.  Lambda = 9 Hours.
 
So, assuming one goes through each phase consecutively, a best case scenario is 33 days, four hours.

-There is no definitive half-life in love, just lust. Love has the ability to renew, it is inertia that can cause it to decay, but it is not beyond repair.  I refuse to reduce love to a mathmatic equation. If it were that simple we wouldn’t have been left broken so many times.

-The half-life of love can not be given just one answer. I think it is relative to the the scientist, the subject and the timing of the experiment. The intent of the scientist is important because it sets up the manner with which the experiment will be conducted. The subject is also important because they have to be a willing and enthusiastic participant. If they are neither, the experiment will ultimately…fail. Finally, the timing of the experiment is, perhaps, the most important element in the entire equation. If the timing is not condusive to the hypothesis of the scientist (and subject) then the experiment will not be conclusive.   All 3 elements must be in accord for the experiment to reach a conclusion.

-The half life of love is ideally greater than or equal to the square root of desire, though if that love is pure and does not mix with sulfer or cobalt, then love should last for 60 years, on average. That would make the half-life 30, wouldn’t it? You’re asking the wrong guy.

-It is not a constant, but a variable. The “type” of love can affect this - i.e, infatuation / crushes have a smaller half-life than long standing relationships. If the state of love is strong enough, the half-life point will never be discovered. Most people don’t seem to get that lucky.

Answers: Chemistry Pop Quiz: 2.) When does attraction become inert?

-After dinner but before breakfast. Usually at approximately 3:27:02.46.

-Sometime afterwards.

-Attraction becomes inert, in most cases, seconds before I figure it out.

-When all your unheard emotions that were ignored or pushed deep inside, rise up and consume you.  There is no room to feel anything else.

-The presence of the correct catalyst is needed for a chemical reaction. Given the complicated nature of the inert subject (not being able to easily lose or gain electrons), the catalyst must be the perfect…companion. If not, the inert subject will remain chemically inactive and alone. It also helps if the inert subject associates high temperature and pressure with the catalyst.

-Around the same time you start to notice the strands of hair clogging the drain.

-Referencing q. #1 - When the half-life has started to break down.

Answers: Chemistry Pop Quiz: 3.) Is the natural state of indifference a liquid, gas or solid?

-Indifference is liquid. It seeps into your cracks, and freezes and thaws, causing the expansion and contraction of your protective shell.  Over time, the resulting stresses cause chunks to break off, leaving new fissures that expose your molten core to the elements. 

-I thought it was the fog of indifference.

-Indifference is solid – it is a lower-energy state, dense, and difficult to move.  Interest and aversion are liquid, they can change form, but are easy to contain.  Love and hate are gasses, show much more energy, and are much harder to contain.  I guess that would leave all-consuming obsession as plasma – highly charged, with properties that even scientists don’t quite understand.

-All three…You can’t see it, but you can feel it and it leaves you in tears.

-Gas. The state of indifference involves no movement, heat or pressure. However, everything needs to give and let off/ out gases.

-Indifference is all three. It starts out as a very solid idea, like ice.  As you think about indifference, and process it, it changes.  As you think about it more, and the idea dissapates, it melts into a liquid and eventually turns into a gas, as you become indifferent to indifference itself and just don’t care about the idea anymore.

-Well, I’d wager it’s a gas, as one often blows air through their lips when shrugging something off with indifference. Phonetically, this is spelled “pfft.”

-A gas that once it has affected a person turns solid and weighs like a rock on their soul.

Answers, part 2: What is your ordinary superpower?

-The Time Bandit: Somehow I’ve managed to learn how to squeeze extra hours in the normal, human, 24-hour clock. 

-Super G: I have the power to get violently angry about things that only ever happened in my head.

-The Claw (AKA Mrs. William Peterson): I can scratch out someone’s eyes with my nails. The claws can be used for sensual or defensive purposes….or both…(Ed note: The nails and hands in question are truly beautiful, no kidding.)

-The Perfector - I make sure there is no detail overlooked and everything is just so. Sometimes I am my own enemy because an imperfect thought could lead to a mistake. There is no room for error in a perfectly edited life. My Kryptonite is criticism and my best defense is my stubbornness. I highly dislike being referred to as anal retentive, please choose your words wisely. Unwavering persistance is what ultimately leads me to perfection and is my secret weapon.

-Needy McGrabby: The nicest little squid you’ll ever meet and promptly forget.  Finder of snacks, polisher of shoes, whose kindness makes the insecure bolt.

-Directron the Movinator- I stopped overanalyzing things and had to play Tetris to keep my mind occupied.  I found I had an ability for this and a superb sense of direction.  With these two forces, I can use them for good: by helping people move.

-The Clod: Extra-ordinary clumsiness!

-My superhero name is Dylan Schwartz and my superpower is being a Schwartz every day of my life without imploding upon myself.

-Halloween: Every day I am someone else, dressed as someone else, behaving like someone else.  It is the freedom to not be me.

Answers part 2: What are you made of?

-Not your average sugar and spice… more like Cheetos and Yellow-tail.

-The pure love of God made grossly manifest. Also, smoothies and pasta.

-Guts.

-Strings. All people are musical instruments.

Answers, part 2: What does space smell like?

-Blue.

-Klingons.

-Suffocation.

-Olives.  Space smells tangy and pungent which is a little bit scary to me because I love olives.

-There’s no air in space so you can’t smell. Sorry, I’m a dork so I take this literally.

-Burnt snow.

-Meatloaf.

-Fresh snow. Like, a snow-cone before the sugary goodness is added.