Samaa the Clonebot

Allo? Aaaallo?

I'm seriously hopped up on cheese. I've had so much of it these last few days that I have to stay up late just to make sure it all digests properly. My liver is turning it all into fat as revenge.
I tested out the cheese-gives-you-nightmares theory, and because I am highly scientific I did it twice and because I'm a horrible scientist I didn't do it more than that. And so far I have gotten nightmares post-fromage, but I think it's because I'm either psychologically inducing nightmares because I'm expecting it (placebo effect-esque) or it was just a coincidence.

So that had nothing to do with the title of this post. The following does!

I have recently been watching copious (that word always makes me think of copulation and then discomfort ensues...) amounts of my favourite YouTuber, Toby Turner (a.k.a. Tobuscus), so much so that I seem to have picked up his way of talking like a big, fat leech and find myself increasingly saying, "What the balls!" (a common catchphrase of his) in normal conversation. Which, a) is not lady-like, and b) I don't have a b), I just enjoy having a variety of sentence structures.

In turn that got me to thinking how easily I (we?) can pick up behaviours and make it our own. Am I (are we?) just an amalgam of our experiences that fuse together to create our own style?
I know that's touching on the ever-popular nature vs. nurture debate, but I just wanted to say that I don't really have a problem with being a Toby Turner wannabe. Because he is cool and I figure just like with all my other sponged up behaviours, I will modify it to become my own and I will be a big party of awesome behaviours that I have screened out to be awesomely mine.

As I type this, Blogspot is periodically saving my words, and at the moment it is saying "An error occurred while saving." What a bunch of balls!