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.

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.