Aw This One Ends All Sad

Fashion Sense: It's not a condemnation. Well, maybe it is...of sorts. Look, all I'm saying here is that at this point, you are basically a caveman. You probably now have the ability to communicate with primitive grunts and pointing.

Pervert: And masturbation!

Me: I'm not sure that last one is a form of communication.

Pervert: Sure it is. It says to the ladyfolk "I cherish you and desire the privilege of being introduced to your rockin' bare tits".

Pedantry: It's true.

Me: It is NOT! What did he bribe you with?

Pedantry: ...even psyche parts have needs.

Me: Never mind. I don't want to know. The concept that any part of my mind has its own sexual urges ALONE makes me consider self-committing.

Self-Loathing: I do have one thing for you to consider.

Me: Oh...oh hell no. Nothing from you is ever nice.

Self-Loathing: It's not that big a criticism. Just a thought.

Ego: Ugh. Fine.

Self-Loathing: When you stretch...in the morning...it sounds kinda like a goat having an orgasm.

Me: How in ANY world do you know what that sounds like?

Pervert: Um. I'll take the blame for that.

Inner Child: We have goats now?

Me: No. Never now.

Inner Child: Damn.

Nostalgia: Hey! Remember when you wanted to buy a goat and keep it on the roof of your sophomore dorm and feed it nothing but vodka and chicken wings so it would stay mean?

Me: Yes...

Nostalgia: That was awesome.

Me: Okay. Cool. Good story.

Irrelevance: So...

Me: Oh God no.

Irrelevance: Edith Piaf and Edith Wharton were NOT the same person, no matter how much you want that to be true!

Me: ...okay, I am literally at a loss for words.

Inner Child: Who are those people?

Me: I honest to God do not know. Which is why it's a little surprising that that sort of thing came up.

Writer: You know, I keep coming back to that title that your brother suggested you write.

Me: That being?

Writer: You know. "Broken Odometer 2: Time Stands Still"?

Me: Oh THAT. Probably never doing it but I'm going to claim copyright on it anyways, bitches.

Nostalgia: Hey! Remember when you got so drunk and then smoking a cigar so you threw up for like twenty minutes off a dock at the lake house?

Me: Remember when you SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH!

Nostalgia: That is abuse!

Self-Loathing: I saw it! I saw it! Bear witness!

Inner Child: A BEAR SAW THAT?!

Me: No.

Nostalgia: Hey! Remember when your eyes were half-open after you were sort of awake this morning and for a moment, the light hit you just right and you thought and hoped you were back in college?

Me: Yes.

Ego: And?

Me: I closed my eyes again.