Conversations With Myself (and sometimes other people)
Navigating the crises of American millennial life through inner dialogue, character bits, mediocre impressions, the occasional sit down conversation with a real person, and other questionable acts of "creative expression".
Conversations With Myself (and sometimes other people)
Angels With The Filthiest Souls
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Boney Bob has the worst Christmas ever.
Hey Johnny, you okay in there? I'm okay. But Gardanius ain't okay no more. She's been smooching with my brother. And she's been smooching with you too, ain't she? No, Johnny, you got me all wrong. I got ya all wrong, do I? What you got for me? You got the money you owe me, Bony Bob? That's what I was coming to talk to you about. You know, you really oughta eat something. How you supposed to be the muscle for us when it looks like you can't even lift your own finger? You're right. Hey Johnny, look. So last night, I was at the Blue Monkey, and this gorgeous broad came and sat on my lap. Not Gadania, so it was another broad. So I had the envelope in my coat pocket, and when I got home, the envelope was gone, Johnny. I don't know what happened. I swear. I'm sorry, Johnny. It won't happen again. See, that's your problem. You get so entranced by these doll faces that you don't got any control anymore. In fact, you don't got control of nothing. Johnny, I'm sorry. Sorry, don't change the fact you don't got the money you owe me. You must want AC back in charge. No, Johnny, please, I'll get you the money. Please give me a couple more days, huh? I tell you what I'm gonna do, Bob. I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to get your scrawny, yellow, no good doll chasing wife smoochin' backside out my door before I blow your bones bullet. Alright, Johnny, I'm leaving. One, two, ten. Merry Christmas to you too. You filthy animal and a happy new year.