"I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Warren."

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A 4:00am Chat With My Subconscious


Subconscious: Pssssst! Hey....HEY!

Marisa: Christ, WHAT?

Sub: Oh good, you're up! Heeey, how ya doin', buddy?

Marisa: I will kill you.

Sub: I don't think that's wise.

Marisa: UGH. What can I do for you, sweetheart? And make it snappy, I'd like to get back to that dream I was having about Lee Pace and something involving a lot of really adorable baby animals.

Sub: Sooo...I was just thinkin'....like....dude...CANNIBAL -wait for it- BABIES. WHAT UP WITH THAT?!

Marisa: HUH? Canni-whaaa? That's not even a...thing...Are you even kidding me with this nonsense at 4 in the morning?!

Sub: Ok, I don't think you know how words work right now. Just take a moment and collect your thoughts. I'll wait.

Marisa: Right. Going back to SLEEP now. Keep your creepy psycho machinations to yourself, please.

**Three and a half minutes later**

Sub: SO. What in the WHAT is the deal with everyone picking on Billy Joel these days?!

Marisa: DUDE GO AW--Actually, I don't know, but that IS pretty effed up, now that you mention it...Wait, why on God's polluted earth am I indulging your lunatic rantings right now? I told you to buzz off not 5 minutes ago.

Sub: Technically, it was three and a half, but that is neither here nor there. COME ON! You LOVE Billy Joel!

Marisa: Well, yea, I mean, I'm not a total Communist, if that's what you're getting at. Anyone who denies knowing and loving every single word to Piano Man is just outright lying to you. It's not like the guy ever claimed to be Lord Byron, he writes catchy tunes for chrissake! People still worship the Beatles as if 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' were Tolstoy in the original Russian. And don't even get me started on Neil Diamond! No one, BUT NO ONE dares talk shit about Neil Diamond, and I fail to see how he is in any way superior to The Joel?! People need slappings. Slappings a-plenty, I say!

Sub: Yes! Now we're talking!

Marisa: Wait. What? No. Uh uh. See, this needs to stop immediately. What is it that you're so busy with all day that necessitates waiting until the middle of the night to talk about cannibals and aging rock stars and the like?

Sub: Meh. It's just how I unwind, man. Also, that's cannibal babies, by the way. Which happens to be pure, undiluted brilliance. So you're welcome, asshole.

Marisa: No. It's really not, though. That is completely retarded. I don't even think I want to know where you came up with that one. It's actually pretty upsetting.

Sub: Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

Marisa: Ok, listen up Shakespeare, this conversation is fruitless and you are hitting a whole new level of obnoxious, so I'm ignoring you now and going back to sleep. AAAAND GOODNIGHT TO YOU.

Sub: God, woman, why are you so LAZY? This is crucial stuff here! I am feeding you golden bloggable ideas and you're just being downright ungrateful. It's not like you have a life, you can sleep all day if you want to. That's the beauty of being independently wealthy!

Marisa: I think the term you're looking for is 'unemployed'. Which is actually more like being dependently broke...Anyway, NO, I have things to do! There are job applications to be sent out and endless cover letters to write. Those Big Macs aren't going to assemble themselves, my friend!

Sub: You are aware that you're rapidly approaching the point where stuff like that stops being a joke and starts to look more like your life, right?

Marisa: I seriously do not like you. I mean, you're just not a nice person. And you're actively trying to drive me insane, which does not look awesome on a resume.

Sub: That definitely sounds like a personal problem. Considering that I technically AM YOU. Notice how you're totally not getting any sleep right now? That's because I've officially commandeered this ship.

Marisa: OK, Lookit here, HAL...

Sub (sings in creepish robot voice): "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do! I'm half crazy all for the love of youuuuu!"

Marisa: OHMYGOD STOP IT YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT MOVIE! Now I'll never get back to sleep.

Sub: Oooh! Wanna talk about Stanley Kubrick now?!

Marisa: Don't even get me started on that motherf--

Sub (interrupts in robot voice): "JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, DAVE?"

Marisa: I hate you.

Sub: YEA WELL, DON'T FORGET OSTRICHES HAVE FANGS, BITCH! GOOD LUCK SLEEPING NOW! GOTTAGOBYE!

*Marisa commences quietly sobbing in the fetal position*


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