Q: Why are you dressed up?
A: Laundry crisis.

Q: Did you cut your hair?
A: (in an offended tone) No. It is naturally short.

Q: Is that a program you're writing?
A: (horrified) Program? It's art, human, art! It's poetry!

Q: How do I access "more of this nonsense"?
A: It is not recommended, but if you feel brave enough to expose yourself to its torture mechanisms, email me and I'll (probably) tell you the username and password.

Q: What if the world ends and it's all your fault?
A: Big deal. I won't be around to regret it, will I?

Q: Want to go ice-skating?
A: Yes!

Q: If your advisor jumped into the well, would you follow him? (This question and its answer are dedicated to GD.)
A: If he jumped into a well, I would assume he wanted some privacy, so no.

Q: What's the easiest thing I can do to make you happy?
A: Email me. But it has to be a nice email. If you can't think of anything but abuse, never mind.

Q: Really? You want me to email you?
A: No. You shouldn't believe everything you read. I only like email from some people, especially people I know. If you're one of them, it is your duty to email me. But if you're not, I might not be delighted to hear from you. Sorry, but that's the truth...

Q: I don't like this page any more. How do I leave?
A: This way. (Good riddance.)

I bet now you're planning to ask me those questions the next time you see me. But you already know the answers, so too late.