Some content on this page is not suitable for young eyes or faint hearts. Views expressed by Sleep Talkin' Man rarely reflect the opinions of waking Adam. Especially the desire to exterminate all vegetarians (but he does hate lentils.)
"No, you're NOT going out like that. Your feathers all ruffled and beak covered in that nasty lipstick, and that excuse for a skirt. You look like one of those street-corner dirty chickens. Go back upstairs and put something decent on. You live under my coop, you behave and you dress like a good chicken! This is hard-boiled love, you know."
A rogue hand. It's not even having an attempt to try and hide. It's still there, on my face. I know exactly who did it. This isn't the kind of thing Miss Marple's needed for, this isn't Murder She Wrote, my hand is STILL ON MY FACE. I do have an itch, funny enough, but unfortunately it's not in the place where I've smacked myself in the head, so I need answers. But it's not talking. I don't think I'll ever ever understand why my hand hates my face so much! WHY?! What have I done to you??!
"Today is my gift to you. Today, I will not kill you and feed you to my children. Today, I'll let you frolic in the woods, picking daisies. Today, I'll let you count the stars and watch sunsets. Tomorrow, YOU'RE ON A SKEWER. Num num num num num num num num num num num num. Num num num num num. Num num num..."
"Hey! This is MY playground. These are MY swings. That's MY climbing pyramid. And that's MY springy elephant! THAT'S MY SPRINGY ELEPHANT! You crusty knob-end. Bog off! Leave this playground to the king of playtime! ... Mmmm, they're all mine.... I need a push. (whining pathetically) I can't swing without a push. PUSH ME! Where is everyone? Bastards. (muttering bitterly) This is MY playground."
"Oh shit. There's a ton of shit coming in, and you're sitting there, doing the same old shit, not giving a shit. Get off your fucking ass, and get on with the shit that's coming in, otherwise we're going to be up to our necks in this shit. Shit. You're such a shit."
Magneto's from the X-Men. Why am I telling an X-man to stay out of my poop?
KAREN:
I don't know. Well, what's his power?
ADAM:
He can do all things.
KAREN:
He can do all things?
ADAM:
He can do everything.
KAREN:
Why, is he the bad guy?
ADAM:
Yeah.
KAREN:
Oh..... Well, what's he gonna do with your poop?
ADAM:
The only reason Magneto would want to have anything to do with STM's poop is because STM's poop contains the ultimate super-power, having come from the utimate being. In STM's mind, obviously.
Okay: pith helmet makes sense; small box, yeah I can see why; baby wipes... maybe to keep them clean and fresh for when he delivers them on the other side, no? You know, if he's underground with his pit helment, he doesn't want to get his midgets dirty. He wants to deliver nice clean midgets.
KAREN:
Makes sense.
ADAM:
I only try to make sense of what goes on in my head.
"This little tampon went out, this little tampon stayed home. This little tampon had an applicator, this little tampon had none. This little tampon's covered in... poop. WRONG HOLE, PEOPLE! Wrong hole."
If you've never seen Apocalypse Now, that one's probably lost on you. And for those not in the Jewish know, challah is a scrumptious super-eggy braided bread.
"Two window licks and a rubber brick, please. Yeah, spring cleaning's a chore."
Adam said that one while I was away in the States for Thanksgiving. It came out the night that my family went out to see the new Muppet movie. It was AMAZING, and I can confirm (spoiler alert) that there was no muppet porn.
"A long long time ago, right up until the minute you were born, everybody was happier."