Does it matter if I ask the ladies so many questions? Do you ever wear lycra? Your make-up looks smudged, or is that a trail of mustard on your top lip? Do you like cream buns? What’s the current temperature beneath your armpit? Why does lettuce go soggy anyway? Have you been to Uranus? Why won’t you talk to me? Do you have problems expressing your emotions? Come on, admit it, you’re in love with that guy from The Strokes and you secretly write fan fiction based on your imaginary encounters, don’t you? Oh come on, are you telling me you don’t know what I’m talking about? Are you alive? What makes you happy? Does Run Lola Run make you cry? Would it make a difference if I said it made me cry? Why do you persist with these vile rumours about us? Don’t you know I have feelings too? Do you think germs have to spread? What’s wrong with you anyway?