It's the only world I have, for now.
You mean, with someone else? :)
Divorced since 1987. (Geez, that's more than 30 years ago. Hadn't really thought about it until now.)
I think the longest I've gone is five, which is a bit excessive really.
I have a little quart-size carafe at the side of my desk; it gets refilled a minimum of three times a day.
I still have my original MySpace account. Still kinda miss Tom.
If I'm still alive, right here; moving is such a terrible pain in the neck that I never want to do it again.
Well, she's since remarried, so this could be very awkward.
Invisible, definitely. For one thing, it would improve my looks.
I did. And admittedly, I needed it.
A group of 12 inchnotes.
Otherwise, the person would smell funny.
French. It's not all that useful these days, but I love the way it sounds.
Nothing. No pockets, actually, being as how I am presently naked.
Depends on the age. If you're 70, or 12, you probably have to take more precautions than if you were somewhere in the middle of that range.
Several. None of them lasted.
Oh, extremely. They've just been taught to refrain from admitting it.
I'm generally in bed for 7.5 hours; on a good night I'll sleep for just shy of 7.0.
If I had $53,000, I could pay off the mortgage. Beyond that -- eh, it's only money.
"Monetize." Or maybe "hegemony." They're both horribly ugly.
I probably spent $1000 this year on charity. And my phone is seven years old.
I've wrecked two cars in twelve years. Does that count?
Tedious at times, but I acknowledge that the alternative is worse.
I've taken two in the last twelve years. (Do I get any credit for taking them while naked?)