I’ve really got to stop talking to myself.I’m in Woolies last night and it’s like, “Ooh hotdogs. You see that Peas? Hotdogs. When last did you have one of those little fuckers, 8000 years ago?”
To which the housewife wearing Laura Ashley and carrying a basket (I never carry a fucking basket. End up carrying things in my hands, between my boobs, under my chin, while muttering, “You know Peas, you should learn how to get a basket,” and throngs of housewives look at me with that disapproving eye. And they always have straight hair.)
It’s the disapproving, disgruntled motherly eye that’s driving me insane. What, so you’re over 50. Haven’t you heard the word ‘fuck’ before? What, sorry, if you used the words “gosh” and “Oh my word” in the 70s, but don’t pretend the word “fuck” doesn’t exist, because it fucking does. And sometimes when I'm choosing between a Cottage Pie and a Mediterranean-style Potato Bake for my dinner, it slips out.
You get the feeling they're thinking, "Does she know we're here?"
And just so you know, I heard the Queen use it once.*
So yeah, talking to oneself in public.
Whatchagonnado. It’s not a bad habit unless you’re openly insulting someone to yourself. Like “Jesus, that chick’s thighs are Off. The. Charts.” And she overhears you.
Which I don’t do.
Do talk to myself within the safety of my car, and like yesterday when I saw this dude bent over his bonnet and his head looked nice from behind, I started chatting manically to myself when he saw me checking out his posterior.
It’s also a nervous thing.
So do I really need to stop?
Fuck whatever. It’s the ever-judging mothers that are the brunt of my annoyance this morning, not the urge to curb the public monologues with myself, if I’m honest.
It's just that I've noticed my verbal ramblings because they're louder now. I had to stop myself this morning when I got out my car in the office parking lot. "Fuck! What a liddle CRACKER! God I love Dr Dre."
The pilates instructor broke me yesterday. Hello Hamstrings, my name is Peas.
* It’s when Prince Phil said something inappropriate [again] about people who hail from the orient. I think.
23 comments:
Hee hee! I talk to myself all the time and don't intend on stopping any time soon!
Tay - thanks heavens it's not just me.
We're just double checking with ourselves see.
Problem is that I'v bought it up a pitch - it's LOUD now.
Not only do I talk to myself I also scream insults at Mavis my Garmin (useless bitch that she is)cos she always gets me lost and the more I shout at her the more determined she gets to keep me lost (cow) I want to trade her in for an Australian man so that at least when he gets me lost I can whisper sweet nothings to him while I wait to be rescued
Nessers - Mavis?? Teeeeeee heeeee, love the name dollface. I can see that Mavis has personality.
Yeah, I suppose on a subliminal level it's finding friends within inanimate objects. Like Ludwig. That car has been with me through thick and thin - we caht ALL the time.
And I also shout at him when he breaks and stuff.
I don't talk out loud but I think I have a running commentary in my head all the time. Bascially I blog my entire life in my head.
hahaha, Po, I used to do that too. Blog my entire head thoughts. But for now, I'll stick to talking out loud :)
I must thank you for writing about my book by the way, been meaning to for a while. You're a sweetheart, thanks so much xx
I indeed talk 2 myself as well.. mostly shouting at inanimate objects. Such as the coffee machine when its out of beans, my PC when its slow, the edge of a table when I kick my toe.. And yes, its almost always involving the "f" word...
P.S. I screamed like a Beatles groupie when I saw ur book in Exclusive Books.. It is sitting on my bedside table under my current read, but I'm tempted to just skip the rest of "P.S. I love you" and move straight on to your book. Kudos!!!
Spectacles! I love you! (You know in that cocktail party 'Oh I just LOVE you' kind of way), and also screamed like a Beatles groupie when you said you screamed like a Beatles groupie.
Thanks for supporting it and hope you enjoy it! :) xx
PS: I shouted at my hamstrings already. The dang things are soooo toight.
Is it a monologue or do you engage yourself in open dialogue??
Talkin to yourself is one thing bt having a full on conversation is another.
Kinda like Tom Hanks in Cast Away...maybe you should get a ball called Wilson?
Revvie we've had the Wilson Ball Convo before. I dunno about a ball so much as a pair of balls...that I can hang up on my wall and look at. :)
I'm going to have to really concentrate and take notes when I talk by myself. I'm not sure if it's more dialogue or monologue. Will keep you posted :)
Favorite T - Shirt:
How dare I wear this goddam tshirt in front of your fucking kids
:)
The Spear - hahahaha! :)
Well, if it's a pair of balls, it's a 3 way conversation.
You should give each of the balls a different identity...one Korean, one Mexican...and when you respond on behalf of the ball, you need to reply in the accent of the ball in question.
Hang them from the rearview mirror in your car.
At least then, when others see you talking to yourself in quite animated converstion, they'll assume you're using a carkit and are on a cellular call, and not just some mad bitch ranting to herself in the traffic.
Rev - I LOVE the accent idea. LOVE it. I have a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rear...so I'm thinking Pedro and...Sergey?
"Hi , I'm Peas, meeting my left ball, his name is HAY-SOOS"
the t-shirt is like not saying the word FUCK in front of the K.I.D.S.'s
Rev - Hey Rev. Meet my uterus. Her name is Sharonda.
:)
Nessers - Do you think those kids I met at the Vaal last weekend know how to spell the word fuck, or do you think they just think of it phentically?
I do that in the car - i.e. bumper-to-bumper traffic on both sides, with full expression on my face!
Then I smile politely at the person looking at me as if I am crazy!
Peas - if the kids are from the Vaan they spell it one of two ways Fok or Fuk because there is so much inbreeding down there they probably have a clooective IQ of around 76
Alet - Love it! Ising along loudly to my songs with full expression, but don't look left or right. I block out the other people from my peripheral vision. Am too scared to see the expressions on their faces, so kudos to you girl!
Nessers - they said they were from Sandton, but then went on to say they live in 'Buccleugh'. Which was interesting...;)
Have cards printed: "Hello, I suffer from 2nd-Order Tourette's Syndrome. If you would like to help me and others like me by making a contribution to the SOTS, please call the following number: 0800 3825 968"
Fuck. I left out "foundation". Fuckitty fuck! Cuntarsefuckerjuliusmalema!
It's cool Kykie, I'm picking up what you're throwing down, homie. :)
It WOULD be a creative way to make cash, what in the credit crisis and all. Definitely a consideration :)
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