And Now For Something Completely Different...

Heck, I was bored and short of blodging topics. This will tide you over with all the wit and pith I can muster whilst I dust off the finishing touches on a celebration of Frankenstein. Try and enjoy.

Name: James C. Swanton, the "C" standing for Christopher. Sorry to anyone named Chris out there, you know who you are. At least I presume so. There's something to add to the stupid phrase list.
Birthday: 11/03/91, sixty years on from F.W. Murnau's death (director of Nosferatu and Faust, good films that you should see pronto).
Birthplace: York District Hospital, along with all the other ruddy peasants.
Current Location: Glorious Acomb, still within the boundaries of York.
Eye Color: Brown. Not limpid pools of desire alas, but eccentric prisms of reflecting light.
Hair Color: Extremely dark brown. Blonde once upon a time. I have the photos of my three-year-old self on Acomb Green to prove it.
Height: A rather imposing 6'2". Not quite as towering as Stephen Fry or Christopher Lee yet, but about the stature of Bela Lugosi. And much taller than Claude Rains.
Right Handed or Left Handed: Right-handed, seeing as I'm socially adjusted.
Your Heritage: Mostly obliterated by World War II and an adoption somewhere down the line. I have some Mediterranean blood on my father's side though. An interesting story, that.
The Shoes You Wore Today: Black, scholarly, rather like well-worn liquorice bricks.
Your Weakness: Fully restored and digitally remastered classic films released by Warner Bros. Aw, geez! Also, people who are unconditionally nice.
Your Fears: Tall buildings, stick insects, the Conservative party.
Your Perfect Pizza: Festooned with two of every animal. Tuna is a compelling option.
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Acclaim and recognition. And more character roles.
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: Seen any good films lately? / Oh, prattle off, you! / How's your cat? / Quite the little woman, aren't we?
Thoughts First Waking Up: Time to go back to sleep.
Your Best Physical Feature: The Geoffrey-Rush-as-Inspector-Javert nose (yeah, I wish). No? Possibly the hands then. Don't know what I'd do without them.
Your Bedtime: 11PM on a school day (aren't so many of those now!), extended into the wee early hours on a weekend.
Your Most Missed Memory: Being Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. Aw, shucks. I'm a regular Norma Desmond. Or Baby Jane Hudson. Now, who would win in a cat fight?
Pepsi or Coke: I don't mind, they both taste so similar... But Coke. Not so common somehow.
MacDonalds or Burger King: MacDonalds, a name synonymous with all those glorious hydrogenated fats and oils. Although the gap is closing now they're being skimpy with the salt.
Single or Group Dates: Either. I'm desperate and resolutely celibate. Romance is all very well, but wholesome, traditional friendship is the enduring yardstick by which all lives should be measured.
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Not so sure I've tasted either...
Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate I think.
Cappuccino or Coffee: Both of them are pretty disgusting. I may slurp at the frothy teat of a cappuccino though, provided it's dusted with some light flecks of chocolate that haven't been anywhere near Baldrick.
Do you Smoke: No, but I do live, which is something else entirely.
Do you Swear: Now and again. Not so often. Losing your temper like that tends to be bad manners.
Do you Sing: As a character, in purest Rex Harrison style, yes. Otherwise, it just doesn't wash with me. I'd love to be able to, but...
Do you Shower Daily: Anything less would be contemptible.
Have you Been in Love: Yes. It was arduous and painful and forced me to hate myself acutely and do an awful lot of thinking and then hate fundamentalist Christians for a bit and then get distracted and wander off. But at the same time somehow... lovable. Worthwhile experience. Not one I hope to repeat. Just ask if you wish to hear mm morph into a self-pitying moron with something worth pitying for a change.
Do you want to go to College: Indeed. And off I trot.
Do you want to get Married: I'm not so sure on that one yet, you'll have to sell me the benefits.
Do you believe in yourself: In the immortal words of Spyro the Dragon, "ya gotta believe!" Sure, why not? It's just difficult convincing the rest of the world.
Do you get Motion Sickness: Not usually. I adore fast rides. Sitting on the front of Space Mountain with my tongue hanging out approximates heaven for me.
Do you think you are Attractive: To people or to igunanas? Because no either way. Gosh, it must be disturbing to find someone has a crush on you, mustn't it? Thinking about you all hours.
Are you a Health Freak: Certainly not. My metabolism does it all for me.
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes. They contain all my genetic material. What sort of self-loathing, pseudo-Freudian paradox would I be if I didn't?
Do you like Thunderstorms: Yes. It is the perfect moment to watch a 1930s horror film, especially Frankenstein or White Zombie.
Do you play an Instrument: I wish I did, but sadly no. A good organ on which I could thunder out Bach's "Sleepers, Wake" when the mood struck me would be ideal.
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: No.
In the past month have you Smoked: No.
In the past month have you been on Drugs: Ye-oh, wait. No.
In the past month have you gone on a Date: No... Why am I bothering with this anymore? What would I do on a date? What would a date do with me? Why do dates exist? They're not particularly conducive to love affairs.
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: I'm not American. We have Designer Outlets here.
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: No, I'm not American. We have custard cremes here. And the answer is still no.
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: I'd try some if it was available and less than completely deadly.
In the past month have you been on Stage: Oh, yes. Yes indeed. Dented the Drama Studio floor too. A lifelong dream fulfilled. Mrs. Grace wept. About the floor, that is. I wasn't that bad.
In the past month have you been Dumped: I certainly hope not!
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: Only by myself. Indoors.
In the past month have you Stolen Anything: Please refer to "Ever Shoplifted."
Ever been Drunk: No. I'm still clean and sober
Ever been called a Tease: Oh, sure, yeah, millions of times.
Ever been Beaten up: Not in the physical sense.
Ever Shoplifted: Only from the Spar, when Callum gives me the all clear.
How do you want to Die: Toppling out of the Royal Box in a London theatre and fatally crushing a lesser actor. Wonderful. Donald Wolfit would be proud.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: A writer, an actor, a film historian, a madman - a Renaissance man, in short.
What country would you most like to Visit: Romania. Bran Castle is for sale again.
In a Boy/Girl.. (Hmm... ambiguous...)
Favourite Eye Color: Not fussed.
Favourite Hair Color: Auburn is a pleasant word, but I really don't mind.
Short or Long Hair: Not fussed. Sorry, long. How long? Gah. Male order brides. Nightmare.
Height: Not fussed. As long as they're not a giraffe or anything.
Weight: I'd be happy with a happy medium. Stick thin people are disgusting. I am the glittering exception that proves the rule, of course.

Best Clothing Style: Drab!
Number of Drugs I have taken: Oh, too few. Every film and TV programme I see about them makes me more desperate. Yeah, man, yeah, like, totally. Just like how the MPPA is attempting to edit out all scenes of smoking in new films.
Number of CDs I own: Around about forty. And over 100 DVDs.
Number of Piercings: None.
Number of Tattoos: Err, none again. Who reads this?
Number of things in my Past I Regret: Oh, plenty of things. But that's another blog entirely...