Had I But Mouth Hello Kitty has no mouth To Voice These Words...

Q. Your just a tad bit unsophistcated!

A. Feh! At least our contractions are correct.

Q. My, My....Tim, you certainly are an odd one. And yet, in a way, I envy the way you answer those questions in such an intelligent way. My name is Clair, and I too have had many wonders about the one with no mouth, but I never said anything I kept my dear thoughts to myself, and then.......out of the blue, your marvelous page appeared out of nowhere! Yet, we still have no real answer of why she has no mouth.

Thus, we have had one answer, she speaks from her heart. Well, I must say, that answer truly is pathetic. Like you said, if she really does speak from her heart there's no logical way we would actually be able to hear her.

So, the search continues. Maybe there is no real answer, maybe the creator just forgot to put the mouth.

Love (yes Love!!) Clair

PS. Tell Tim I think he's Cute and I may be falling in love.

A. Dearest Clair (To Whom it May Concern) [Howdy Babe],

How do I love thee? (Thank you for your message.) [You sound like a cool chick.] It is not for want of love, but for love of love that I respond to thee with open heart and joyous tidings of love. (Your insights into Hello Kitty Has No Mouth were: Choose One: Humorous, Insipid, Insightful, Stupid, Long) [If yer ever in my neighborhood, you should look me up!] Your fair words strike deep into the chambers of my heart and set a song within of light and gentle caress. (We appreciate your attention and hope that you will continue to view our web site, Hello Kitty Has No Mouth) [I'm so totally down with what yer saying, it's like we're connected, you know?] Without such missives of love, my life would wither on the vine. Unloved is unlived, so from your love, I live! (As we receive so much e-mail, we must respond with this form letter, but we do value your attention.) [So, keep in touch and have a bomb summer!]

Love Always (Regards) [Catch Ya Later!]

Tim (Tim) [Tim]

Q. I always thought we'd lacked definition. Up to now we could only look up to "Tim the Enchanter" and "TimmyBigHands." Now we have "Tim who brought us Hello Kitty has no mouth."

Tim Koster, CEO

A. Thank you for your kind words. As a fellow Tim, I must correct a misapprehension that you may be under. I'm certain that you are pronouncing your title as "See - EEE- Oh." This is, in fact, incorrect. The proper pronunciation is "KeyOh," or, when dealing with native Italian speakers, "ChayOh."

I'm sure this will save you some embarrassment in your future business dealing. Plus, it should provide some insight as to why your clients have been laughing behind their hands at you and why your V.P. has been rolling his eyes when he introduces you to people as the "See - EEE - Oh."

Us Tims should stick together and look out for one another. If we don't...who will?


    Long hours passed as my search for Links to "Hello
    Kitty" went ininspired. 
    Am I a hello Kitty fan, you wonder in your
    subconscious, much to your surprise? No.
    I have had no contact other than the occasional
    spotting of a hideous little wallet or stuffed replica
    of Kerropi or the mouthless one, itself.
    Upon reaching your site, I was overwhelmed with
    curiosity. (There are worse thing with which one may
    be overwhemed with. Gobs of Play-Doh for example.)
    Had I seen a mouth? Why was it's abscence so relevent
    to this person? I wonder if an X-Ray would divulge a
    lower jaw bone?
    And so I read and read. I came to the FAQs and though
    some of the questions were obstreporus, you seemed to
    answer them most intelligebly. 
    Bravo, mark I.

    I'm afraid I don't know what a Queeg is but I do know
    a Tim. He sings in both of my Choirs. Are you him too?
    The description of Tims was very disconcerting. Is TIM
    similar to the 'BORG' to which a certain Microsoft
    owner allied? Shall the Tims overwhelm us all?
    (Play-Doh and Tims are both worse to be overwhelmed
    with than curiosity, actually.)
    Can I be a Tim too?
    I'm currently a Chad. A sharp lad but a Chad just the

    Grammatically yours,
    (an excellently condescending closure, again


	Perhaps Queeg is merely a pet name for Queequeg of Moby Dick fame.
        Maybe not.
	Can you be a Tim?
	You are a Chad.
	It clings to you.
	It pervades your every word.
	You are steeped in it.
	Be proud of it.
	But still envy the Tim. 

Q. Tonight I have discovered enlightenment through your website, particularly through the intriguing horrors of Hello Kitty's mouthlessness. I have laughed, I have pondered aloud, and I have thoroughly weirded-out my roommate with both of these. The fact that Hello Kitty has no mouth is an example of the ultimate tragedy in today's society, a reflection upon the ultimate existentialism toward the less-endowed in this rat-raced world, and aren't we all supreme monuments to the same, or at least a venerable panacea so alleged?

Or perhaps this simply calls for a smile. I am happy to oblige.

PS -- Do tell Tim I might be in love with him, won't you? Anything is possible in this cruel and multi-faceted world, even love amongst the wordless kitties and myriad website madness. Good luck in life and all points beyond.

A. Oh, My Dearest Christa, Who Are the Spring of Sighs, Aaaugh! Away Perfidious Harridan! You have poisoned my life's blood with the foul stink of your basest affections! Love! What can a succubus know of the torments of love? Faugh! You, who stain the very name Tim with the ichor that drips from your luscious, kissable lips, would that God never allowed the begetting of such foulness as yours. Tims are lost before you, Oh, Delilah-the-Wily! You, with your skin of alabaster, laughter that is the first bird song in springtime, eyes that pierce the soul, and your taunting pert ni- AAAH! Fie! Fie! Get thee behind me!

When Tims first received your missive, we thought we knew the workings of your heart. For what secrets can be hid when we speak of artichokes? And in the face of a love so powerful that it's sender resorted to the use of the forbidden word "existentialism", our pangs of longing drove us, Tim and all, quite, quite mad. Tims were seized of the belief that your love was meant for them each alone. Abba, Armani and Arthur Miller were a maelstrom of longing that no Tim could resist, and each fought for use of the communal car to drive down the coast to L.A. to sweep you off whatever it is that you might walk on. Feet, maybe. Only I knew that in truth, you had meant your love for me and no other.

Soon, all throughout the house of Tim were contests of manly prowess: graeco-roman wrestling in the living room, viscious bouts of head-to-head napkin folding in the shower, crossbow target practice in Tim's bed. Through it all, I was silent. Let them bicker, I thought, while you and I stare longingly into each other's eyes, waiting for that special moment when Tim, Tim and Tim get hungry and leave for burritos, but we say "No, thanks, we feel like Chinese. Catch you later." with that special grin because we know that we're really in the mood for Italian.

We did what we could to keep Tim under control, steering him clear of sharp objects and massaging him thrice daily with Dr. Fennemeister's Godlike Liniment (available through the 1907 Sears Catalog), but it was for naught. He found the poem Tim was writing you and snapped. We're still finding pieces of him in the couch cushions. Not that he should have bothered! I never could understand the appeal of haiku anyway. Nothing compared to my sonnet for you, which begins "It's..." and goes on from there, and when I gather the rest of words together from the little dictionary I stole from Tim's footlocker, I'm sure all will agree it's better than some stinky thing that doesn't even rhyme, not even in Japanese!

Anyway, after all you've done to us, Tim is serving 12-25 at Joliet for Aggravated Assault, and Tim is only a shell of what he once was. Tim and Tim no longer say anything at all, staring at me owlishly and eating their socks. And I will never be able to play the pianoforte again, and it's all for the sake of your "love". But never again! Tims eyes are variously open, and we are immune now to your snares!

Not Yours,


P.S. Tim thinks you're cute. He wanted me to tell you he looks like James Dean.

Q. You have too much time on your hands.

A. Obviously, if we take the time to respond to this.

Q. SILVESTER: im sorry but you have no life and your page doesnt make much sense. Youre kinda wierd and you sound like you think you're "tha shit".

A. TIM: Your apology was reluctantly accepted. However, Tim [nods at TIM, in the chair by the fireplace] says that your transparent attempt to flatter him falls upon deaf ears. Not Tim's mind you--he hears just fine.

A. TIM [aside]: People keep accusing us of thinking we're clever. That we're smug, self-satisfied, arrogant bastards. That we think we are singular pieces of excrement, though how that works in with narcissistic self-appreciation I'll never understand.

Are we, perhaps, too haughty? Too full of pride? Too full of chutzpah? Not, I pray, full of piss and vinegar, although after that lunch we had today it's certainly possible.

Mayhap it is time to humble ourselves; to admit our failures and our faults. To admit that we are only human, or at least mostly human. We can pass for human if you don't look to close, anyway, and that's what counts.

Or maybe it's time for a snack. Yes, that seems more likely.

A. TIM [in audience, eating as he talks]: People always mistake wit and intelligence for arrogance. What a pity they don't mistake arrogance for wit or intelligence.

Anyway, Tim is not wrong. Tim abides in the house of Tim which is built to keep the wrongness out. Not snacks mind you, the Anti-Wrongness Safety Web is designed to allow snacks to pass through unhindered--but with that fail safe in place, Tim CAN'T be wrong. So for Tim to apologize would seem, oh, disingenuous.

Besides, why should Tim apologize, when Silvester clearly already did so? Lovers go through these spats and Tims and Silvester are no exception.

A. TIM [at home]: I concur.

Q. You are very immature and mean!! You odviously have NO life!! What kind of person would make fun of hello kitty?!?! odviously a person that has nothing better to do!! so grow up! and move on with your life!!

A. It is true. Tim has taken many lives, but still has none himself.

More questions about mouths
Tim has heard the voices of many mouths
Hello Kitty has no mouth

Last modified: Wed Feb 19 09:33:37 PST 2003