Talking With Yourself Is Preferable to Talking To A Trump Supporter!
Hi, Eat the Press - Do Not Read It, readers, I am John K Roberts , not, my alter selves: Jonathan Livingston Pigeon-Poo, "Doctored", or, "The Reverend Oral Fleece, Straight From the Street & Not from the Police", nor, the many other personaes that I employ to keep creditors at bay.
It is a gift, I suppose, having so many personalities percolating in my head. When we got our first TV set, I fell in love with Jonathan Winters, a fellow nutcracker, from Ohio. He seemed so normal to me. And, what an array of friends he had living within his head.
I discovered that if I didn't talk back to them they would fade like the lyrics of your favorite song, and, soon, one would be all alone.
I started talking to myself as a kid when the other kids in the neighborhood stop "talking to me" because my parents were getting a "divorce". Back in the 40s, divorce was considered a "Sin", and, no one was supposes to sin, except sinners.
If one was deemed a sinner by neighborhood "gossip", then, that was sufficient evidence to shun them, throw eggs at their home, or, punch their kids in the face. Christians are so devout.
When I grew up my custom remained in tack. I found when talking to a Trump Supporter it was a balm to have this ability to talk to myself, and my character in "me" head. I never felt alone.
In fact, even today, I prefer talking to myself rather than talking with a "Trump Supporter". Their silly red caps get in the way of their mouth and it is difficult to make out what they are saying.
Generally, it is a recital of "Trump Talking Points", a blistering list of "How Great Thou Art", sung off-key, by a Marroon devoted to "the Donald", no matter how many young pre-teens he and his buddy Epstein are accused of raping.
Why is that?
So, if you find yourself "talking to yourself" at the grocery, that is where it usually starts. "Egg, milk and butter, that is what need, not another copy of "Hustler" magazine, published by local Daytonian resident Larry Flynt. He was a transplant from McConnell's territory, Kentucky, and, therefore, was a bit raw, and, an out and out "sinner" with a lot of money, despite being a "Red Neck". He had red hair, a red face from the booze, the start of a red nose but was a full-on hedonist, which is what I wanted to be, also. But, I had not hedonism to get me started.
I floated some articles to his publication, "Street Walkers", while he was just starting out in business in downtown Dayton, Ohio, running "Nudie bars", and his street publication filled with nearly naked women.
I read it for the articles, not the salacious, mouth-watering, black and white photos of big-busted women having sex with other big busted white women. Larry explained to me, that he was not "racist", but, if he had black women published in his "Black and White" newspaper print, "no one could see what they were doing to each other", and, after all, like me, he was a journalist.
Well, that is enough about me. If you encounter a non-stop talking Trump Supporters stick one of Larry's old publications in their mouth. That will shut them up. Christians love porn.
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I was one of the original board members of "The Lonely Heart's Club" until I was tossed out for being so maudlin!
I talk to myself all the time. It seems that that is the only time a rational conversation Occurs.
I noticed It is ME. I can hear you all the way to Mildew, Ohio.
Oh, wait. Are you talking to me?
Yes, I am. Are you going to watch Stormy on 60 Minutes? I get $.06 for each viewer I encourage to expose themselves to this Intelectual Discourse. So, it is vital that I can count on you. I am saving up for a new Mercedes.
No, how rude of you to interrupt us. I was talking to myself.
"I am talkin' to you, Pu**". Robert DeNiro in Taxi
Several years ago, I had a mini-stroke. It lasted less than 30-45 seconds, but, was the most bizarre and frightening experience in my Life, up to then.
I felt fluid move within my ear channel, as one does when they get water in their ears while swimming. Suddenly, everything turned off. I could not think, communicate with myself, or, anyone else. Nor could I hear. I had sight. But NO CONSCIOUSNESS.
Suddenly as it happened, I felt the fluid move in my ear canal. Conciseness returned. I was not unconscious during the experience I was empty, emotionless, vacant. Immediately, after my senses returned, I raced to the doctor discovering that I had high blood pressure and suffered a TMI. The after effects were halting speech, loss of short memory, and slight confusion.
What I realized is that people in "awake states of comas" may be able to see, but, not process, move, or, function. It is a state of complete disconnection.
Since that time I seem to have to talk out loud to myself to formulate my thoughts. So, I talk out loud, not always, but, a lot, much to the consternation of others.
If you talk in your sleep are you talking to yourself?