I’m sorry guys, I know this is another late-night, last-minute post and that’s not very professional, but I would also like to point out that writing about vomiting into a steering wheel also isn’t very professional. So bloody lower those expectations.

And I have very good reason for not having anything prepared for you, and that’s because there is a dog in my house.

She’s staying here for a week as a trial to see how she goes.

As you can imagine, this fortuitous set of circumstances has caused major distractions and so I’m not really able to put together a well-written, conclusive piece right now. I haven’t the capacity for anything other than a self-indulgent questionnaire.

Tonight’s questionnaire comes from the New Philosopher, which I bought at the airport a few months ago, read a few pages of and then abandoned for the sake of staring out the window listening to Take Me Home Country Roads (a song I used to think was only for those wanky people who pretended to be country to sing at parties to show everyone how country they were, which I found myself playing three times in a row on the train to work one day, fighting back tears).

This questionnaire was for physician, author and environmentalist, Dr Helen Caldicott. She has 21 honorary doctoral degrees, and was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize.

I filled it out as a person employed to write stories about hippos that dive like dolphins, an avid Instagrammer and someone who collects her plastic shopping bags to recycle at Coles. I have no honorary doctoral degrees, but once won a family fun pack of Malteasers for dressing up as a single mum for International Women’s Day.

What do you doubt most?

That those girls who post about loving chicken nuggets and drinking wine are as happy as they pretend they are.

If you could change one thing about the world, what would that be?

This feels like “if you had one wish” kind of thing, which is a big responsibility to lump on a person, particularly because there’s a lot of shit in the world that needs to be changed. So I’d say that I’d make it so that Roald Dahl’s Matilda was real. I would happily pass the buck over to her, because if there was such a kind-hearted, well-read lass with telekinetic abilities, she would have stepped in by now and we wouldn’t be in this mess.

It seems responsible to delegate this task of righting the wrongs in the world, because I honestly would only wield my world-changing power for something stupid, like being able to control my hair like it was an extra limb. I mean that would be cool, but also a gross misuse of power.

What does “nature” mean to you?

Well, the first thing that came to mind for me is Human Nature, so I guess nature means C-level Australian celebrities and John Farnham duets to me.

What is your demon?

Think people care as much about the cleanliness of their ears as I do. I am slowly poking my eardrums to perforation.

What was the post important part of your education?

When I was in kindy, I have this distinct memory of a girl bitching about me to another girl, loudly accusing me of not being able to sew. At the time, they were threading macaroni on to string, an activity which this girl obviously considered “sewing”. It was then I learnt that there were always going to be haters, but mostly that putting macaroni on string was a huge fucking waste of time and resources.

What would you never do, no matter what the price?

Lick my elbow.

If you could choose, what you have for our last meal?

Hot chip sandwiches.

Your favourite word?

At the moment, probably “slag”. A timeless term with maximum impact.

 What is your motto?

Don’t be one of those fucks who have mottos.

Which thinker has had the greatest influence on your life?

Whoever was behind the decision to put the words “free leg of ham” to Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony for a Toowoomba-made ad. That has stuck with my for years.

What is a good death?

One which prompts a spike in book sales, as well as putting my ill-advised Christmas album to the top of the online charts in the fallout.

What of people accuse you of?

Being fabulous. Guilty as charged.

What is the meaning of life?

I suspect it has something to do with clubbing seals, but I have very little evidence to back that up.

And I’m yet to determine if that means violently thrashing creatures with blunt objects or taking seals to da clubz.

I guess that’s why the philosophy industry is still going so strong after all these years. I mean, there’s so much we still don’t know.