- Me: Hey nerdlinger.
- My Brain: Hey. Sup?
- Me: Well, the toilet is clogged up AGAIN, and the plunger isn't fixing it, so I'm going to have to call maintenance. AGAIN.
- My Brain: Okay. And...
- Me: I'm just wondering why every time I'm about to make the call, these little dudes show up. *points to a tiny, pale man standing on one shoulder, shivering like a chihuahua, and a second tiny, bluish-white man slumped on the other*
- My Brain: Oh. Hey, Anxiety. Shame.
- Anxiety: *squeaks, hides*
- Shame: *looks up, makes eye contact and quickly looks away again*
- Me: The toilet is screwed up, but it's not like it's my FAULT. Why are they here for THIS?
- My Brain: Sure it's your fault! You eat way too much, which makes you poop way too much, which is probably why your toilet always gets clogged up.
- Me: What? No I don't! You KNOW I don't! And I only poop once a day!
- My Brain: Hmm. True.
- Me: If I'm LUCKY!
- My Brain: Heh heh, yeah, true.
- Me: So, why are they here?
- My Brain: *shrugs* I dunno. Maybe you should ask the person who's driving this thing.
- Me: ...
- My Brain: See ya round. *walks off*
- Me: ...
- Shame: *whispers in my ear* I think he's talking about you.
- Me: YES I KNOW OK I GET IT THANK YOU.
Which to me seems like walking around saying “LOL I’M SUCH A QUADRIPLEGIC ABOUT HOW I DRINK MY COFFEE.”
“Don’t touch Brian’s record collection, he’s totally epileptic about how they’re arranged.”
Oprah points to a woman in the front row.
“Look under your chair,” she says.
The woman looks at her neighbour, then leans forward and reaches under her seat as commanded. She feels around for a second then grasps, and pulls out, a large fish.
Oprah claps her hands.
“You get a carp!” she shouts. The woman holding the fish starts to scream.
Oprah then points to another woman and instructs her to look under her chair. Visibly shaking, the audiencemember does just that, and she also pulls out a fish.
“You get a carp!” shouts the host, pointing at the woman. The two carp recipients are jumping up and down while holding their fish. Oprah pauses for effect, smiling. Then she too jumps up and down.
“EVERYONE LOOK UNDER THEIR CHAIRS!” she shouts, and pandemonium breaks loose, with woman grabbing fish from under their seats, jumping around in happiness, crying, screaming like front row fans in black and white Beatles gig footage, confused fish being waved around in jubilation.Oprah runs around the studio.
“YOU GET A CARP! AND YOU GET A CARP! AND YOU GET A CARP!” she shouts, “YOU ALL GET CARP!”
Then Oprah turns her attention to a little girl in the front row, off to the side. She is not jumping up and down, she is not excitedly waving a fish, because there was no carp under her chair. Oprah and camerachap walk over to her. The girl’s expression of sadness is exagerrated by the scenes of happiness around her. Oprah kneels beside the girl.
“You didn’t get a carp under your seat?” Oprah asks, and the girl shakes her head, sadly, as only a disappointed child can.
“I think there might be a good reason for that,” Oprah says, as she steps back on the stage, toward the sofa where she sits when interviewing guests. She reaches behind the sofa and pulls out a fish.
“YOU GET A BREAM!” she shouts as the little girl starts to cry with joy.
I love you. <3
reading a book
wearing neon pink nail polish
wondering where new followers came from (hi there hello hi)
5 months sober