Now I’m REALLY happy I chose the username I did.
I’m both dead and alive. And I make little biological sense.
This could be fun actually.
I’m going to hear lots of Ps popping.
I’d suddenly be seen only in black-and-white.
but on the bright side, I’d actually be…
…funny. 
I seem to be some sort of abstract concept, floating in the ether…
Or perhaps a superhero who can get anything done, as long as there’s a way to do it!
Yeah, let’s go with that second one.
I would be this.
Me neither.
All of a sudden I’m feeling very, very warm. . . .
Well, I’m probably in for a very long life, though maybe not a pleasant one, as people might start chopping my limbs off on a regular basis, and stealing and eating my children.
Though there is an offchance I might just wind up male, Tanzanian and an excellent runner instead. Or a small community. Or just as a nut, in which case there’s little change.
Well, I guess 3/4 of the world would now be my oyster. And I’d weight a hefty 678 pounds. Wonder how long it would be till some southern redneck had me on the end of a line?
I’m floating off into space.
dot.
My username is my profession, so I won’t even notice anything has happened, until monkeys with guns start running around.
The BlackKnight always triumphs.
(Alright, sometimes it’s a tie.)
I guess I’m like the black dude in Police Academy, but with no other way to communicate.
Kill me. - - I mean RATATATATATAT! AHHH! Crash. Slump. 
Something like this?
I’d have a company, and possibly be dead.
I’d be back in L.A. and my house would be 1,200 miles away. So I’d have to buy a plane ticket.
That would have made for a sooo much better STNG episode.
Brevity is a great charm of eloquence.