a vegetable, I'd be a mirliton. Like the tomato, it's considered a fruit in some senses and a vegetable in others. Unlike tomatoes, which I detest, it's fabulous when filled with shrimp stuffing and it's an old New Orleans favorite. Just like me.
a fruit, I'd be a durian. Despite the fact that it's prickly, thorn-covered, stinky, and generally forbidding and unattractive on the outside, it's considered in Asia to be the king of fruits. Darwin said of it: "I'm suspicious/for the flavor is scented/like papaya fermented/ after a fruit-eating bat has pee'd on it." Who knew Darwin was a poet? Ok, a doggerelish poet. The flavor/scent dichotomy is often described as eating the most delicious thing in the world while standing in a sewer. A nasty sewer.
an airplane, I'd be a Velocity TXL-R(etractable, of course) cuz it's absolutely the shits. Lust alert! Canards rule and cruciforms drool.
a spaceship, I'd be FTL-capable and sleek as a motherfucker, a long-range interstellar dreamboat designed by Burt Rutan. Anne McCaffrey would write stories about me.
a sailboat, I'd be a Freedom 38 named Loup Garou. Maybe a Lagoon 42 named Schrodinger. Guess I could be a Swan 391 named Leyda.
a book, I'd be the Egyptian Book of the Dead, mostly just cuz it sounds kinda cool and it mentions that the heart of a good person is lighter than a feather (the feather of Ma'at). I like that conceit.
a game, I'd be a FPS with a BFG. As in, I call "shotgun." Response: "Oh yeah? I call BFG!"
a sport (No! Not a genetic sport, smartass.), I'd be kendo because I am a kenshi aka kendoka and it's all about the cut, babe.
a character in a novel, I'd be Dave Robicheaux , fils/freres de meres differentes. Look for the movie "In the Electric Mist" coming soon-ish, with Tommy Lee Jones as Dave. I have high hopes.
a color, I'd be 6438.4696 angstrom units, which would make me cadmium red; and therefore I'd also be a slightly dated standard unit of measure which is still *cooler* than using nanometers. I mean, nanometers, how pedestrian. Angstrom units – that's the ticket to Coolsville.
a carpenter and you were a lady, I'd be a horrible song which would get stuck in your head and make you crazy enough to commit suicide with a herring.
sane, I wouldn't be me.
'nuff fer now!