INNER CHILD: So, Ade, what are your New Year’s resolutions for 2010?
ME: I dunno kid, I’m not really into making resolutions.
INNER CHILD: WHAT? You suck. Don’t be a fucking fornicating shit-eating faggot and try to improve yourself for the new decade!
ME: … that has got to be the most obscene stream of words I’ve ever heard coming out of your mouth.
INNER CHILD: Even more obscene than “horse-fucking twat sucking clit fucker shitface?” Because that’s what I think whenever I hear your name.
ME:
INNER CHILD: In case you haven’t figured it out, it’s because I think you’re a horse-fucking twat sucking clit fucker shitface.
ME:
INNER CHILD: So, make a new year’s resolution already, you asshole. Try to make your life suck less this 2010. I know you got a new laptop and all you wanna do is to tweak the shit out of it and kill zombies with plants, but come on, you’re better than that.
ME: For the record, I am not spending 2010 holed-up in my room spending quality time with my laptop because I-
INNER CHILD: You suck.
ME: Look, fine, I’m going to make me some New Year’s resolutions. Will that shut you up?
INNER CHILD: I can’t promise you anything, but I can try. Shitface.
ME: … resolution number one: I promise to not kill a certain annoying inner child, no matter how strong the urge to murder is.
INNER CHILD:
ME: What?
INNER CHILD: That’s not exactly the kind of resolution I was looking for.
ME: Wait, you get to dictate on my resolutions now as well?
INNER CHILD: That was the general idea, yes.
ME: … what the flying fuck, kid?
INNER CHILD: (hands me a piece of paper) In fact, I have here a list of… suggestions.
ME: (reading) “Break into an airport, go on the runway, and moon five departing 747s?”
INNER CHILD: *giggles*
ME: (reading) “Go to Japan and kidnap Maria Ozawa using chloroform, a tank, and a fluffy bedroom slippers?” What the hell, kid?
INNER CHILD: You’ve been blogging about Maria Ozawa for the longest time, I figured I’d give you a gift, so you can see her finally.
ME: … so vague instructions to kidnap a Japanese porn star is a way for me to meet her? Aaaand it’s a gift?
INNER CHILD: When I played out this scene in my head, I was expecting a little more gratitude from you, jerkface.
ME: “Commit a felony that will land me in jail with five horny rape convicts.” Yeah, I’d REALLY be grateful for that.
INNER CHILD: Of course, you fucking ingrate.
ME:
INNER CHILD: You haven’t read the last one! It’s the best!
ME: Y’know, kid, I think I’ve had enough of this stupidity for today.
INNER CHILD: No, seriously, it’s good.
ME: Look, kid, I don’t even know why I put up with your shit but I’ve seriously have had enough. Here’s your nice little list of resolutions I’m never going to make, and I’ll get the hell out of here.
INNER CHILD: No, Ade, come on! I can’t believe you’re turning me down like this. You gotta read that last line! I know I’m been mean to you and all, but seriously, I was just kidding you! So, please? Read that last one. I promise you won’t regret it.
ME: … fine, I’ll read your stupid list.
INNER CHILD: You’ll thank me afterwards, I promise!
ME: Here goes nothing: “Be the best person I can. That means I’ll stop being a fat piece of lardass. Also, take regular baths.”
INNER CHILD: Don’t you just love me?
ME: All I wanted was a normal inner child! Why the hell do I have to be stuck with this retard?
INNER CHILD: Maybe if you try to stop blogging about this imaginary inner child, it’ll help.
ME: I’m seriously going to throw you off a cliff one of these days.
INNER CHILD: Take regular baths while you’re at it, mkay?

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