In Which We Have a Chat

 

I only recently discovered that not everyone goes about their day chatting with themselves.  I think in whole sentences most of the time and when I don't, I still think in fragments and it's all directed to an audience inside my pointy little head.  Some of it may be delusional like "I have time to go have coffee, take a shower and get to the doctor's appointment on time," but it's still a conversation.  This kind of dialogue with oneself is called an inner monologue.  Apparently lots of people do not process their thoughts this way, instead they often just use images.  Weirdos.

I also use images like when I think "Imma take off for Peet's" I will have an image of the cafe and the trip there and the gang of loud homosexuals that hog a table in the hopes that they won't be there, but those pictures are just secondary to my rambling dialogue, illustrating what I'm already thinking.

What's more, I often phrase these inner sentences in the plural, such as "let's go to Peet's," rather than "I'm going to go to Peet's". Walt Whitman said "I contain multitudes" and he was a big ol' homo, so he must be right.  And speaking of multitudes, I will occasionally have a disagreement with myself.  "Oh you think you can go get coffee and still make it to the doctor?  Get real, queen."  I'm frequently very harsh with myself.  Alice in Wonderland had these same kind of inner brain arguments; I don't know if comparing myself to a fictional child having a nightmare is a good thing or not.  Let's just move on. 

Through the magic of the internet, I came across the concept of naming different aspects of my thought process as Present peenee, Past peenee, and Future peenee.  When, for example, I don't want to unload the dishwasher, I, speaking as Present peenee, will talk myself into doing it by telling Past peenee that Future peenee will appreciate it.  I even go so far as to have Present peenee thank Past peenee for putting the dishes away.  It goes the other way too when I indulge in the joys of procrastination and tell myself whatever I'm putting off is a job for Future peenee.  Future peenee is often very annoyed by this.  Yeah, Future turns into Present and they both get mad at Past who has morphed into Present and it gets awfully loud and uncomfortable what with all the yelling.  Pipe down, bitches.

We all want to assure you that we are not schizophrenic, we're not going all Three Faces of Eve or Sybil up in here.  It's just a way to organize my thoughts, such as they are.  I happen to think in whole sentences, and the sentences sometimes turn into conversations.  This blog is very much a reflection of my inner dialogue.  Sometimes I just crack myself up I am so hilarious.  I could go on, but one of my favorite peenees is demanding sour cream potato chips so I gotta go. 

Future peenee presents imagery for us all to enjoy:

Our Chaturbate boyfriend Mikey looking all buff and stuff at the beach.

Speaking of being at the beach, I just love buttchops that are too big to be contained by a mere speedo.

Anonymous muscle pussy 

William Mann with all his big stuff.

This guy has more hair than the wolfman.

I'm glad this guy puts his name on his pictures because I forgot it.

Nick Poulos.  Pandering to my audience.

Ass, ass, ass.

We approve.

I forget this guy's name, which is just ungrateful.  He is one of those Colt Studios' sluts.

Rick Koch, cuz everybody loves good cop porn.

Past peenee thinks we may have used this picture before, but the rest of us don't care.

I composed this whole post on my phone because Octavia was snoozing in the sun next to me and I didn't want to get up.  It's a sweet life.