It's More Fun When Nobody's Home

Me: Sweet. I got the place to myself most of the day. What should I do first?

Libido: Well, you could...

Me: Yeah yeah yeah, that's already taken care of.

Libido: I'm appeased!

Music Lover: Workin' For The Weekend is always good.

Me: Yeah, I suppose we can do that.

Hidden Nudist: Bare-assed of course, right?

Me: It wouldn't be Personal Naked Dance Party Time if I had boxers on, would it?

Hidden Nudist: I suppose not, no.

Me: That sounds good though.Yeah, now that I have a carpeted place to dance, I don't have to risk slipping and breaking my cocyxx.

Internal Sadism: You know you COULD.

Me: But that's not going to happen so...yeah.

Self-Loathing: You can't dance! You're a fat white boy.

Ego: First off, fuck you. Second, remember Show Choir? Third, a good...fourteen years of music has given him more than just a rudimentary grasp of rhythm, you dick. And finally, fuck you again.

Self-Loathing: First, you wish. Second, that was eight years and eighty pounds ago. Third, rhythm doesn't mean he can dance. And finally, no, fuck YOU.

Me: Yeah, let's just not worry about that huh?

Pervert: God, you know what would be nice right now?

Me: Are you just going to say it anyways, regardless of my response?

Pervert: A nice tight butt.

Me: That answers my question.

Pervert: Clad only in a skinny white thong.

Me: Here it comes...

Pervert: Ridin' all up on the LOVEMATIC BRONCO!

Me: That...I mean, that's the gist of what I was expecting but...I mean...what?! Lovematic Bronco?

Pervert: Si, senor.

Me: I...okay. Sure.

Suspicion: Why are you so calm today?

Budding Alcoholism: A little vinogrease to work the pipes over.

Ego: Plus losing three pounds even after drunk last night again. Which is wholly bizarre.

Inner Child: Naked dancing!

Me: That too.

Libido: Naked anything is at least a step in the right direction. If you get my meaning.

Me: We got it, thanks.

Music Lover: This song is catchy!

Ego: Plus it's in our range. Rock it.

Realism: Can't really sing it around the parents though. They might not like a song called "Fuck You!".

Me: Well...yeah. Whatever. Hey, I know I'm risking it but where's...

OCD: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Me: You know. I'm not asking. Not going to do it. I'm going away. This one's over.