I know that some of you here are going, "I knew it. There just seemed to be something wrong with the guy, after all." Well, I think that you are legally allowed to have up to three voices in your head before you're considered certifiable. For the record, I have two. One sounds like Captain Caveman and the other is Momma, from the movie, not the book, "Carrie". My intermediate voice in my head doesn't count as a third voice, because this is my direct representitive of my head. This voice sounds like Matthew McConaughey's "Wooderson" from the movie "Dazed and Confused". Example: "Let me tell you what Melba Toast is packin' right here, alright. We got 4:11 Positrac outback, 750 double pumper, Edelbrock intake, bored over 30, 11 to 1 pop-up pistons, turbo-jet 390 horsepower. We're talkin' some f-ckin' muscle."
Momma's voice is marked in Italics--Wooderson, in purple quotes--Captain Caveman is in red bold.
Okay, Momma is not only the voice of my conscience, but also my "killjoy". Her shrill voice permeates my brain whenever I attempt something stupid, vulgar, and or dangerous. Just think of the part in Carrie that Momma shrieks, "They're all gonna laugh at you!" That's what I'm talking about.
Captain Caveman is my inner primate.
Wooderson, well, he's all-right!
Case in point: I had a moment today where I dumped my clutch real hard at an intersection, Uhnga Bunga!, and my truck left a nice patch of rubber...No! "What?" You shouldn't have done that, mister! "But it was kewl, man" Uhnga bunga, must pick nose waiting at next light. No! No! They're all gonna laugh at you! "Chill, Sister Bringdown. It's all good. I just gotsta scratch it a bit." Oh, ho, ho, hoooo! Nose need more finger. Deeper! Deeper! No! You'll hurt your brain and then they're all gonna laugh at you! "Yeah, man. That's a little gross. I'm with the chick on this one." Uh-oh, finger slip and find caverock. Must wipe under seat. No! That's disgusting! Use a napkin! "Fling it out the window, man." This time Momma prevailed.
Stay tuned for more...
3 years ago