Little Voices in My Head

In an effort to clear up exactly what this site is, I’ve decided to give the Little Voices In My Head a few minutes of free reign to introduce themselves. Actually, I’m only giving three of them this opportunity. The fourth one I will not unleash on an unsuspecting populous. That would be cruel. You’ve heard that “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?” Well, the fourth little voice is exactly that woman. I won’t even invoke her name for fear of waking her. She makes Mao Ste Tung seem like a swell guy. She is the Amazon who seared off her own breast to improve her bow-shot. The Dionysian hunter who has lived so long off the land she has lost the art of coherent speech. Should you ever meet her, take my advice: RUN, don’t walk, to the nearest hospital, and stay there. Trust me, you’ll be needing their services soon enough. That being said, here they are, in no particular order Leroy, Muffy, and Yenta!

Leroy: Yo. Let’s get one thing fucking straight right the fuck off. I ain’t some girl, OK? I may be stuck here in The Female’s head, but I am 100% grade A prime Male OK? Got it?! I like boobs, I like steak, and I like my beer ice cold from a frosty fucking mug. I am so fucking tired of Muffy going on and on about how I must be gay and shit because The Female boinks men. I AIN’T GAY. I just put up with that shit because I can’t stop it, but you can bet my shiny black ass that the minute I get outta here, I’m finding the finest piece I can and PROVING I ain’t. I don’t like all this blah blah blah whiny bullshit The Female is always spouting off about neither. What the hell do I care about that touchy feely crap-o-la? Seems to me she’d be a whole lot better off if she’d just get off her ass and kick some more, bust a few skulls now and again. But that’s just me. Guess I ain’t too in touch with my ’sensitive fucking side’. W’aever. Guess I’m just gonna have to start assertin’ myself a bit more, like I SHOULDA fucking done with that LAST looser The Female stuck around with. Man, would I give my left nut to get a piece of HIM in my scope! Mist and a memory folks, mist anda fucking-a-right memory…

Muffy: Hiya! So, my hobbies include, shopping, boys, shopping, boys, shopping…oh, yeah, boys, and shopping! C’rissa says I’m, like, a mall bunny, but that’s, like, so not true! I spend VERY little time at the mall. Mostly because C’rissa refuses to take me there! And can we TALK about her wardrobe?! Seriously, chica needs to join the rest of us in the 21st century, ya know? OMG, SO happy she finally got rid of that hideous monstrosity of what she USED to call a wardrobe though. I mean, it’s not like she was THAT fat, but she was kinda…unfortunate looking. But hey, we got this totally cute new bod to clothe, we need to hit the shops! *giggle* But try telling HER that, and it’s all “blah blah blah, we need to shit a money tree first” And what’s with her language? Seriously, profanity is like, SO last season, C’rissa.

Muffy, get back on topic, you’re supposed to be telling the folks about YOU.

Oh, right, sorry! So anyway, I don’t get how we all, like, live IN her head without being, like, HER, ya know? I mean, how come WE never have a say in what we do? Like, I mean, I enjoy the BF and all, and C’rissa’s friends are totally cool, but would it kill us to take a va-cay now and then? Some sun, some sand, some hot surfer bods…think about it. Throw in a mani-pedi, and we’ve got a perfect day! *sighs* Total bliss.

Yenta: Bubbie, whya you wanna tell dees peoples alla ’bout us?

Because they asked Yenta, and I have a undeniable penchant for the truth in advertising.

If it making you happy. *shrug* I have lived many many years here with my Bubbie. She notta very good at listening to me most of time, but, eh, when I have to, I get my point in, yes? I not always agree with the angry black man, and Muffy drive any good Jewish Girl to drink I swear to all God! But I love my Bubbie, so I stay. She need me to keep an eye on her. I worry she no take care of herself, always helping helping helping everybody else, never keeping track when she eat, when she sleep, oy yoy yoy, make-a herself sick I swear to all God she will. But who listen to me? *shrug* I just Yenta, just sit here, wait to be asked what I tink. I tell you, I tink dat man she marry NO good, I tell her dat from da begining, but Bubbie no listen. So I stop telling her wat I tink. I no like dis dreaming she do about dees bushes wit da tearing and da running. Who gonna get any rest wit all dat? Not Yenta, I tell you dat for sure! Da angry black man always make with da yelling dose nights, no resting. Den we work work work, when Bubbie find time to make dat sweet man she date happy, I no know. But I no wanna say wat I tink. No one ask Yenta. I tell Bubbie all time dat thanks be to God she has family wit such love for her, or she be such lost little girl. I always wit da worry ’bout dem, and dos Boys of Bubbie dey such good boys. Just need nice girls to settle down wit. I tink. But who ask Yenta? No one.

As you can see, the Gang is as diverse as a New York City subway car passenger list. No, they are not multiple personalities, they are just different aspects of the wonderful little world in my head. I’m sure you’ll be hearing more from them at a later date, as Leroy in particular has been pushing for his own page…*rolling eyes*, but for now, I hope you’ve enjoyed the glimpse into my world. Remember, if you can’t take the joke, you shouldn’t be shoplifting at the Comedy Store.