Noisy, Noisy Man

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Funny thing about going through a lot of emoness and change: you tend to think more. Also, in thinking more, I tend to become less retarded and – dare I say it – introspective. So laugh at me all you want, but I actually want to write something that makes sense for once. Sort of.

So dear reader, join me as I look inside myself, and make that journey for me to discover who I am.

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Before we go on with this Daily Dose of Retard, I suppose you’d also want to blog, or already currently blogging but you’re totally dissatisfied with your blog host. Well then, I suggest you head on over to I.Ph, the most awesome blog engine on the planet. Heck, I started out there also. So please, just head on over to I.Ph and I swear, you’ll be blown away at how awesome it is.

So maybe I’ve been a little too harsh on my inner child the first time I ran into him. It is, after all, his first appearance on the internets, so he must be nervous and all. So to make up for the trauma I caused him,  I’m giving him some time to talk to me in this blog.

Isn’t he such a peach?

It’ll probably do wonders for my recent emoness and possibly cure me of my schizophrenic tendencies. I’m looking forward to the day where I don’t have to sing “My Humps” (yeah, the most intelligent song EVAR) in funerals mainly because I think it’s damn funny and it creeps the hell out of the deceased’s relatives.

So without further adieu, here’s my inner child and me… debating. About… stuff.

ME: So ladies and gents, here’s my Inner Child, who is awesome and all. What do I call you by the way?
INNER CHILD: Larry.
ME: Larry?
INNER CHILD: You got a problem with that, buddy?
ME: No.
INNER CHILD: Good.
ME: Geez, somebody’s touchy today–
INNER CHILD: How would you feel if you didn’t get to buy cotton candy for today? You and your “Cotton candy can wait, we have to be on the blog ASAP”. You and your immature blog obsessions.
ME: But I said we can buy cotton candy later… um… Larry.
INNER CHILD: So why am I on this stupid blog anyway?
ME: Well, you first do as I do–
INNER CHILD: Make a fool out of myself and make everyone remotely associated with me hate my entire existence?
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I dunno if it’s the weather, or the season, or just whatever, but I am again going through another bout of emo. I mean, it’s crappy and all when I’m in the middle of an insulting session with some fairy midget and then suddenly my life flashes before my very eyes:

Yeah, my life just bored the living hell out of those three Caucasians, and I don’t even know them. See, my life’s exciting like that. And for that very reason, depression comes in. And whenever I get depressed, there’s no better way to prove I’m slowly losing my grip on reality, I’ll again talk to an imaginary vestige of my subconscious. So guys, say hello to my inner child. He’s right here beside me. Can’t you see him? No? Freaks.

INNER CHILD: I hear you’ve been going through a lot of emo lately?
ME: How’d you know?
INNER CHILD: I’m residing in your your subconscious, duh.
ME: Oh yeah–
INNER CHILD: I IZ IN YER SUBCONSCIOUS WATCHIN YOU FANTASIZE ABOUT–
ME: Kid, in case you’re forgetting, this is my blog and I don’t like to be humiliated here by an underage fraction of my subconscious.
INNER CHILD: I know. Because you’re doing that too well on your own.
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Ade:   This morning, I found three gray hairs on my head.
Inner Child:   So?
Ade:   That means I’m growing old, you insensitive sonofabitch.
Inner Child:   And tell me again, why should I care?
Ade:   Um, because you’re part of my subconscious?
Inner Child:   And?
Ade:   I knew it, you couldn’t care less if I’m on the road to growing old. I’ll go find somebody to talk to.
Inner Child:   Wait, wait. You’re growing old?
Ade:   Apparently, yes. Y’see, we humans have something called a BODY. A body, which parts of the ego -like you- do not have, ages. And therefore, when the body ages, stuff happens, like an aching back, a thinning hairline, an expanding belly and an inability to sustain an erection for more than three seconds. And oh yeah, white hair.
Inner Child:   You mean… you can’t keep your birdie stiff for more than three seconds?
Ade:   NO! I didn’t mean me, I meant–
Inner Child:   But you just said–
Ade:   My point is, I’m growing white hair and I feel old.
Inner Child:   But what about your bird?
Ade:   Let’s not talk about THAT, okay? Read the rest of this entry »

In a few months I’ll turn 25. Afterwards, it’ll be like half a decade before I reach 30. Imagine that. Two and a half decades. And now looking back, I see I have this impressive list of achievements in my life so far:

Um, okay. Maybe I don’t have any real achievements at all. Except for that mustache. They can’t get any finer than that, nosiree.

So to help me out in figuring what i want in life, I’ve commissioned my inner child to give me a pep talk. Or something.

INNER CHILD:   So, you quit your job, eh?
ME:   Yes I did.
INNER CHILD:   Didn’t you enjoy your job?
ME:   Yeah, kinda. But c’mon, I can’t spend the rest of my life answering calls and helping rednecks find the start button. I have to plan and make sure I become a somebody by I’m 27. Or something.
INNER CHILD:   Oh shit.
ME:   What?
INNER CHILD:   You’re planning.
ME:   Yeah? So?
INNER CHILD:   You’re planning!
ME:   I honestly don’t see the point here.
INNER CHILD:   You’re *gasp* growing up! Read the rest of this entry »