Another argument between the voices in my head

“Write something, damn you.”

“Fuck me, I’m tired.”

“Um. I don’t think you should probably say ‘fuck me’ on the internet. Ever. Ever, ever, ever. Only 9% of your readers ever identify themselves and even some of the knowns probably plunk kittens in the microwave for fun.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I don’t think that’s true at all. I have a sane and surprisingly intelligent blog community. Well, …..except for that one guy, awhile back.”

“Uh huh. That one guy.”

“And the other drive by, remember the psychotic medusa who tried to moralize me about my romantic predicament?”

“Yeah. That particular loose cannon is still circling the waters.”

“But the rest of them are great. I’d give almost all of them weapons.”

“Again, I don’t… I just might not mention that aloud where the ‘imaginative’ might read it.”

*dreamy eyed* “Laser guns…”

“Still holding out for your Star War’s posse then?”

“Someday I’ll find my Luke. My Han. My Leia….”

“Your wookiee.”

“Oh, I found my wookiee. I way found the wookiee. The wookie slot is filled.”

*winces* “Wookie slot? Ew, ew, ew.”

“You’re disgusting. I’m talking about a position being filled.”

“You’re talking about positions. And being filled. No, what you’re doing is whooping a welcome to every pervert and murderist on”

“Wookiee’s are not serial-killer bait. They’re serial killer detractors.”

“Just tell me this: How would you know?”


“How do you know what attracts a murderer?”

“How do you?”

“…Educated guess.”

“Yeah, right. Check-mate.”

“Nuh uh. That’s a draw. Go on then, discuss wookie slots to your heart’s content, but don’t come crying to me when all your quality readers immigrate to Book Slut and ”

“You know, you’re a killjoy. If I could determine which part of my brain you’re located in, I’d stab it with a shrimp fork.”

“Keep talkin’ wookie slots, I’m sure one of your ‘fans’ will do that for you.”

“Don’t diss the weebles.”

*mutters* “They smell like ham.”

“Do you see this shrimp fork? Do you feel the destiny percolating off its tines?”

“Kay. Stab yourself in the scalp. See how far you get in life with that approach.”

“I’ve done pretty fucking well.”

“On a scale of one to what?”

“You’re me. You’re supposed to be a loyal fan.”


“That’s gay.. ”

“That’s English.”

“That’s fun to say.”

“Like… ‘viola da gamba’…”


“So why didn’t you do this conversation thing with Tim instead?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“I already do know; I’m you, after all.”


“But they probably want to know.”


“That was an invitation to speak up.”


“Compelling conversationalist, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes…. sometimes it’s better to be on your own for awhile. Let stuff settle. Let old directions collapse so wildflowers can grow. That’s all. Oh, and sometimes it’s nice to show other people just what kind of pseudo-brain-fart mental crap you hafta contend with on a daily basis.”

“So they can safely migrate to”



15 thoughts on “Another argument between the voices in my head

  1. I wish conversations with myself were this lively.

    I’d like to apply for a spot in the Star Wars posse. I’ll be a nameless, disgruntled Stormtrooper that switches sides.

  2. Did you mean bullocks or bollocks? Both English but with different meanings :)
    Bullock, castrated male bovine raised for beef.
    Bollock (slang) the testicles, or meaning ‘nonsense/ rubbish’ as in ‘you are talking a load of bollocks!’

  3. “Do you have a license for that shrimp fork?” (He said, pausing to stand and approach the witness box, hoping the jury would take note of his intensity and extreme lawyerly prowess)

  4. Stevo- Consider it done. But you’ll hafta give us your laser gun, so we can take it apart and analyze the enemy.

    imtayopay- my sentiments exactly.

    uphilldowndale- I think I meant ‘bollocks’ actually. I didn’t realize there were two kinds of b-llocks! Edit forthcoming.

    Bob- Heh. It’s almost a shame to waste such lawyerly prowess on such very, tiny cutlery, really.

  5. I think the shrimp fork is an excellent idea.

    Are you a Laurie Anderson fan? She has a song your brain might enjoy, Babydoll:

    “I don’t know about your brain-
    but mine is really bossy
    I come home from a day on the golf course
    and I find all these messages
    scribbled on wrinkled up scraps of paper
    And they say thing like:
    Why don’t you get a real job?
    Or: You and what army?
    Or: Get a horse.
    And then I hear this voice
    comin from the back of my head
    Yep! It’s my brain again
    And when my brain talks to me, he says:

    Take me out to the ballgame
    Take me out to the park
    Take me to the movies
    Cause I love to sit in the dark
    Take me to Tahiti
    Cause I love to be hot
    And take me out on the town tonight
    Cause I know the new hot spot.”

    I find it amusing that her brain is a he. What about yours?

  6. Holy smiggle. (smile + giggle)

    I really don’t know how to react to this post. I’m torn between a few options: never check this blog again; check it more throughout each day; or leave work, go home and watch all 6 Star Wars movies back-to-back.

    Although I wish I could do the last one, I’m thinking more along the lines of the middle option.

  7. J- never heard that one. It’s an interesting question, I guess I think of the voices in my head as androgynous. How bout you?

    Chuck- I got excited about the third option too, though all that star wars would probably melt the frontal lobe.

    mad- Nope, it isn’t true. Loneliness happens… but they’re not often bored.

    tgpgoddess- *curtseys*

    jo- Yeah,, wasn’t that a classy touch?

    Lazy Buddhist- Oh, k. Those can be found under a site search, top right ‘Sunday Conversations’. imtayopay and I usually have a little tete a tete on here. Those posts are blue and purple. (I’m purple, he’s blue)

    Robin- But they’re less aesthetic, and way less wise.

    david b- act now and you can receive the full satellite package with d.v.r. capability for only $69.99 a month!

    atheistgirl- The fuck you say… hm.

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