Me: Well, I made it to a second post. I should be proud, I think.
Self-Loathing: Of what? Of not making a one-off blog? How novel! You're the next Faulkner, alright.
Sarcasm: Sorry about that. We got our signals crossed. I mean this.
Me: God, I hate you both.
Self-Loathing: That makes two of us.
Inner Child: Yay! We're just sitting around in our underwear! This is fun!
OCD: ARE YOU NOT AWARE THAT NOT WEARING PROPER GARMENTS WHILE SITTING AT THE COMPUTER IS THE LEADING CAUSE OF ASS COOTIES?!
Me: Ass cooties.
Inner Child: No! No cooties! Avoid the cooties! I am scared of them!
Romanticism: No, you aren't. You never were worried about cooties. You've always loved the female form.
Libido: Not enough loving it, if you ask me.
Me: For the billionth time, I'm working on it.
Work Ethic/Libido/Self-Loathing: Like hell you are!
Fashion Sense: I would say that a good step in the direction of getting some crotch in your face or vice-versa would be to, you know, shave. Seriously. You're not going to grow a beard. You know it. I know it. We all know it. You just look homeless. You look less like someone who could provide for two people, rent an apartment, get a cat together, all that shit, and more like someone who's going to reach out of the shadows, grab a passing schoolgirl on her way home from Catholic school, tie her up, savage her, then let her go, all the time humming softly to yourself to block out her screams of terror.
Me: That was...um...oddly specific.
Pervert: And erotic!
Me: WHAT?!
Pervert: I'm kidding! Come on, man. Lighten up. I know you wouldn't REALLY do that. Just think about it while touching yourself and accidentally hanging yourself from your shower curtain is all.
Anxiety: You can DO that?!
OCD: SHOWERS ARE STASTICALLY THE MOST FILTHY PLACES IN THE HOUSE EVEN MORE THAN TOILETS DUE TO THE PREVAILING ACTIONS OF THEIR NOT BEING CLEANED VERY OFTEN AS WELL AS DUDES PISSING WHILE THEY'RE SHOWERING!
Reckless Endangerment: Look, Brosefsaurus. All you have to do is wear roller skates while you're cleaning your bad self and your feet will stay clean and staph infectionless.
Internal Sadism: Son of a bitch! Why did you tell him that?
Me: Because...you know what, I don't even know.
Self-Loathing: Shocker.
Ego: Will you knock it off? We are a valuable member of society!
Self-Loathing: How so? We live with his parents, don't have a job, don't work out, don't have a girlfriend, don't have more than a friend or two in town, don't maintain any semblance of a motivated schedule and are the clinical example of a graduate who got FUBARed by the system.
Realism: He's...got you there, man.
Hopeless Optimist: Soon we'll...
Everyone: SHUT THE FUCK UP, OPTIMISM!
Libido: But hey, at least I'm still up and running at maximum capacity. Of course, it's like leaving a Camaro running in the garage as you go on vacation, but it's still working!
Pervert: What year? What year Camaro? I need this.
Libido: Well, obviously a...
Me: I swear to God, if you say '69', I will stab my urethra with a pen cap.
Groinal Region: ...oh merciful Heaven, please let my torment end quickly and without much pain.
Libido: I was GOING to say '58 but I like your idea better.
Internal Sadism: Me too!
Latent Psychopathy: I'm bored.
Me: You better not be.
Budding Alcoholism: You could drink?
Me: That's your answer for everything! Bad day? Drink. Good day? Drink. My psychotic side is bored? Drink.
Budding Alcoholism: Dude. I'm budding alcoholism. What do you expect me to say? 'Gawrsh! Why don't you chomp down on a big ol' head of lettuce?' Because no. That's the stuff of assholes.
Bad Joke Center: Wait...I thought that...
Me: No! You don't get to respond to that one. Can we get back on track?
Work Ethic: First time I've heard you say that one in God knows how long.
Writer: Okay, here's the dill-y-o.
Me: What?
Writer: The...um...deal. Sorry. I was trying to be cool.
Self-Loathing: I just choked.
Libido: Haven't heard THAT one ever.
Me: ...
Writer: Okay! Sorry. My bad. Okay. You need to keep ME in good working order. So from now on, you need to post three times a day. Once here. Once on Dan Eats Cat Food. And once on your LiveJournal. All three, every day.
Motivation: Are you out of your bastard mind?!
Me: I'm talking to myself. No, I'm ARGUING with myself. So yeah, probably.
Work Ethic: You think you can do it?
Me: With YOU on my side, I can't fail.
Sarcasm: Sorry, that was me again.
Me: Readers, the over/under on this plan succeeding is three days. Place your bets now. We'll return tomorrow.
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