Friday, 1 April 2016



A psychometric test to help you find out by Prof. Ess.

1) Your pet giraffe’s eating disorder is embarrassing your wife. Do you:

a) Take up domestic violence.
b) Move to Sweden with your giraffe.
c) Feign ignorance.
d) Wear clogs as noisily as you can.
e) Realise you’re not married!

2) At the cinema, the people seated behind you persistently lick the back of your head. Do you:

a) Ignore them.
b) Threaten them.
c) Pay them.
d) Masturbate.
e) Engage in an epic coughing fit and move to another seat.

3) A weird byelaw comes into effect forcing you to spend three days and nights in a corrugated iron shed on a strict diet of ginger nut biscuits and water. Afterwards, do you:

a) Assume an air of martyrdom and snap at ginger people.
b) Buy shares in Swarfega.
c) Launch campaigns to raise awareness of currently fashionable diseases.
d) Form or join a discussion group for people like you.
e) Feed your giraffe ginger nut biscuit crumbs.

4) When bizarre legislation compels countries to ‘share’ their most famous landmarks (for example: Cairo swaps its pyramids with New York’s Statue of Liberty) you one day find the Arc d’Triomphe outside your house. Do you:

a) Foam at the mouth in a fit of xenophobic pique.
b) Organise local street urchins to deface it with anti-Gallic graffiti.
c) Park underneath it.
d) Let your giraffe defecate by it.
e) Dress like Napoleon and wear a mad grin.

5) ‘Role reversal’ opportunities, which are broadcast nationally, are legally enforceable possibilities randomly allocated to individuals by a government computer. Every other minute, two people are chosen to ‘swap lives, circumstances, etc’ for a minimum of two hours and a maximum of two days. You are picked to swap with a cross-dressing traffic warden with a candy floss addiction. Do you:

a) Try and refuse on religious grounds.
b) Fake your own death.
c) Set up a series of murderous traps for the traffic warden and vandalise parking meters.
d) Make the best of it and attempt to learn and grow from the experience.
e) Research giraffe’s food allergies… Just in case.

6) Corrugated iron makes a surprise comeback becoming one of the bestselling, most fashionable materials in recent decades. In mint condition, a 6’ x 4’ sheet of corrugated iron can fetch as much as £300 on the black-market. When a dyslexic cretin leaves you a corrugated iron warehouse worth £500K in their will, do you:

a) Make materialist plans, your eyes glistening with greedy anticipation.
b) Design a series of corrugated iron giraffe shelters.
c) Surround the premises with powerful magnets to see what happens.
d) Recruit thousands of panel beaters to flatten your stock to see what it looks like.
e) Seek advice from an independent Unexpected Inheritance Advice Service run by recovering candy floss addicts.

7) If you had to spend 24 hours naked with a small lump of candy floss partiallycovering your private parts, where would you prefer to be:

a) Trafalgar Square.
b) In an irrigation canal.
c) Behind a veterinary surgeon’s practice.
d) In a field of irate bulls.
e) In a north-facing greenhouse.

8) If your teeth became luminous in the dark, would you:

a) Smile all the way home.
b) Paint yourself black all over and mime to popular songs every night.
c) Get into advertising… Toothpastes, etc.
d) Leave your teeth to science.
e) Hurl bricks at lampposts and grin maniacally beneath them.

9) After hearing that selotape is illegal where you live, you see your next-door neighbour using it. Do you:

a) Assume a non-judgemental air while secretly pitying them.
b) Report them to the appropriate authorities, after checking to see if there’s a reward.
c) Knock on their door and offer them alternative, legal forms of adhesive.
d) Knock on their door and run away.
e) Write a hymn that cryptically incriminates them and send 1, 000 copies of it to the Archbishop of Canterbury.

10) Which of the following would you most like to be?

a) The Pope, but incurably afflicted with a terrible stutter and an atrociously painful limp.
b) The best footballer in the world, but with horrific halitosis and microscopic genitalia.
c) The Dalai Lama, only to be perceived by everyone else as a facile candy floss addict.
d) Famous for surviving more accidents with corrugated iron than anyone else in the entire world.
e) Totally average in every way, yet capable of experiencing true and total euphoric bliss all day on every seventeenth Wednesday.

11) Empowered to do so, which one of the following miracles would you choose to perform?

a) Make smoking completely harmless.
b) Become immune to pain.
c) Restore Stevie Wonder’s sight.
d) Cure candy floss addicts through creating roles for them in giraffe shelters (made from corrugated iron).
e) Afflict Stevie Wonder with profound deafness.

12) If you were forced to learn another language taught by retired traffic wardens who were deranged on hallucinogenic mushrooms soaked in battery acid, which of the following would you choose:

a) Sanskrit.
b) Welsh (and then send insulting Celtic diatribes to Bjork).
c) Esperanto, sign language and semaphore: to be certain of ‘flagging’ down deaf taxi drivers’ cabs.
d) Any language, but always employ a broad Glaswegian accent while using it.
e) 18th century Polish to be spoken dressed as Chopin.


You’re a borderline selotape-dependant personality with repressed aversions to long-necked animals. If you carefully avoid the excessive consumption of candy floss and regularly focus on the marketing trends of corrugated iron, you may find a modicum of contentment in your life. Or, possibly, experience the feeling of belonging that is readily achieved by joining self-labelling groups (of socially-deficient people) of a comfort-swapping nature.


If you dream you are a giraffe a lot, you’ll have answered B mainly. You know your heart, have an unusually long, strong neck and cordially detest traffic wardens. You are a flexible, confident character unless of course you are feeling inflexible and lacking in confidence. You’re not gullible, don’t let anyone tell you that you are (if you are suggestible). You have what it takes to succeed in life, especially life at its most mundane. With the right combination of luck, inspiration and hard work, you could invent sophisticated new methods of torture for inflicting on traffic wardens kidnapped by people who mostly answered A’s.


If C’s are all you see as options, you’re a weak-willed, excessively compromising, potential candy floss addict. Your head probably often resembles pink confectionery on a stick. Giraffes sneer at you behind your back, which is invariably hunched like a furtive traffic warden’s. If you’ve made it into your thirties, don’t think your life’s going to get any better—it isn’t! Intensive self-improvement is your only (extremely slim) hope, but it’s entirely up/down to you… Nobody cares!


You are an attention-seeking, pervert impelled by self-gratification. You think: me, me, me, which rhymes with D, D, D, which is no coincidence. If you were less vain, you’d need to take a good look at yourself (but self-examination procedures are totally non-productive exercises for complete Narcissists). Naturally, no one is beyond redemption. They just feel universally shunned and derided, like traffic wardens with leprosy. Suggested course of action: Move next-door to a Jehovah’s Witness and look down on them.


You oddball, you! You think outside the box. Paradoxically, choosing mostly E’s ticks all of your boxes. Your maverick approach to life outfoxes your rivals. You’re a loner but you’re not lonely. You know your own mind and stick to it (without using selotape). If you were a traffic warden, you’d probably give a giraffe a parking ticket—it’s who you are! You’re used to sticking your neck out. You don’t get overwrought near corrugated iron and you can take or leave your candy floss. You will be happy, popular, able to be promiscuous if you so wish, smart and skilled at completing psychometric assessments with positive results. You do not loathe traffic wardens or pity weak candy floss addicts; live and let live you say, knowing you are better than they are anyway.