Behold my internal dialogue!


…. and that's just driving to work!

I don't know about you, but my day pretty much consists of a psychotic internal commentary on le poop du jour.  Everything from, "This schmuck must have taken driver's ed from Stevie Wonder!" to, "Why did I wear this bra?  I HATE this bra."

In fact, internal dialogue can also save lives, especially in the workplace. It's far better to think, "Oh, great, here comes the boss ... what the hell does he want now ... better click off of TMZ!" than to yell,  "AAAAH!" and jam a scissors into his derriere as he passes by.

Yes, the internal dialogue takes many strange and wonderful forms.  Here are few such thoughts, from my little monkey brain to yours:

  • Does Trump ever wear jeans? Granted, they'd have to be the presidential-cut ones with a "skosh" more room (or as my Dad would have said, the Roseland cut - more ball room), but I've never seen him in denim. Also, if he weighs 239, I'm Nicki Minaj.
  • Every time I see a really old movie, I think, "All of these people and animals are dead now."
  • I often wonder how many people within, say, a 25-mile radius from me are having sex.  "Do I know any of them? Shouldn't they be at work? Why wasn't I invited?"
  • While driving, I sometime wonder how close I've ever been to a famous person in traffic. (I once saw what had to be Prince's limo - a purple stretch with Minnesota plates that said "Rain," at my local McDonald's, parked across 8 parking spaces. I blew "him" kisses through the pitch-black windows. No reaction from within.  I never meant to cause him any sorrow…)
  • How come nobody under 65 drives Buicks?
  • Also when driving, I always wonder what people have in their trunks. Or WHO.
  • I'm a major Prince Harry fan (a sexy ginger Brit with a great personality - pretty much, my dream throb). With the advent of last weekend's nuptials, I again thought that if only I were 25 years younger ….. I wouldn't have had a chance in hell with him then, either!
  • Call me obtuse, but I love to look up and watch planes. I still think it's amazing and freaky that you can climb into a giant metal tube laden with wings and engines and tons of jet fuel in Chicago, and 8 hours later be looking out the plane's window at the Eiffel Tower. Wahoo! (La la!)
  • Why are some people just so cussed mean? Anyone can have a bad day, but I know some people who practice nasty like it's their religion. Always taking the low, snotty, bitchy road. Not that I'm Pollyanna, but it must be horrible to live that way. Their glass ain't even half-empty; it's shattered to pieces under their bare feet.
  • Corollary: Space travel - all these years later - still blows my mind. How in the hell did we actually target the moon and Mars and land men and craft on them?  I think the most frightening image ever would be to look out the window of your spacecraft and see THE EARTH. You're not in Kansas anymore, Jack! Astronauts are about the bravest motherfuckers ever.  



  • I can't remember the last time I wore a watch. Pantyhose. A dickey. Bought film or new checks.  Wore any shoe other than flats. Bought a newspaper at a vending machine. Sent a greeting card. Watched a beauty pageant. Used cash at a fast-food drive-up. Turned change into a bank.  Went INTO a bank.
  • I watch virtually no TV. But I adore my laptop and phone. I'd go bat-shit crazy without either. I hope there's life after death, and it'd fucking better have Wi-Fi.


    Can you hear me NOW?

  • Why do animals wake up looking great and exactly the same as the day before, but humans have to wash and use product to look presentable?  If I went out the door looking like I do when I wake up, children would run screaming and birds drop from the trees.
  • I'd rather do damn-near anything than get my drivers' license renewed at the DMV. Root canal, clean a toilet, shave a friend, listen to KISS.  Shave KISS.
  • He who invented the 5-day work week should be made to ride a commuter train naked, except for a newspaper and a cork.



THAT'S RIGHT…. come closer…. closerrrr…...

Thank you for reading! Now come orbit Planet Michelle! Just type in your e-mail address, over to the right and up, and you'll receive each post I pull from wherever the hell I get this stuff from. No spam or name-selling, ever.

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Tags: internal dialogue

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