My dad tried these out.

1. Put it through the wash. (In his defense, this one was an accident.)
2. Dip it in a curry pan. (That was actually my fault.)
3. Wash the curry off. Decide it doesn’t smell right. Put dish soap on it and wash it again.
4. Fry it on the woodstove in an attempt to dry it off. Don’t catch it on fire; that’s a bad idea.
5. When it’s finally dry, restore it to its original position – in your pocket – so it can go through the laundry again.

Uggh, I’m bored.
Well, Bridget, maybe you should do something.
Like what?
Well, Bridget, you could do homework.
Say what?
I said, ‘Well, Bridget-‘
There’s no need for you to say it again. I was expressing my shock and disbelief that you, knowing me as well as you do, would suggest such a thing.
Well, Bridget, you could also read.
I could, couldn’t I? I already tried that. If I hadn’t already, I would do that instead of asking myself what to do.
Well, Bridget, if you ask me, you are actually asking me.
You are myself. Therefore I shall refer to you as such. Leave me alone.
Well, Bridget, you did ask me for ideas.
Why do you keep calling me Bridget?
It’s your name, Bridget.
Well, there’s no need to be so repetitive about it.
Fine, be that way. One would think you didn’t like me.
Sometimes I hate you. You never shut up. If it weren’t for you, I might actually sleep at night! Imagine that!
Well, it’s your fault too for creating so many interesting predicaments for yourself!
I’d like to go to California.
I’m sorry, where were we? I thought we were arguing.
I miss the beach. And the green walls of the hotel we always stayed in. And the ocean!
You’re going totally off subject! We’re supposed to be arguing! The title of this post says (and I directly quote), “A quick argument with myself.” So argue!
I always liked waiting for the tide to come in. It would start by just barely licking my toes and before I knew it, it was at my waist and knocking me over every other wave.
*sighs*
You know, salmon is really good the day after it’s cooked, when it’s been in the fridge for a day and it’s nice and cold.
I give you up.
The End.

You know, it’s strange how some people can be so oblivious to what’s going on. Especially when it’s happening to themselves. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve really gone mad.
On a different subject, it’s also strange how oblivious people are to sarcasm. Case in point: This morning, my brother said, “Gosh, Bridget, you look terrible!”
“You don’t say.” Sarcasm is wasted on him, of course. He’s already on his way to his room, and in all likelihood, didn’t hear a word I said. Of course I look terrible. I didn’t sleep until after 4 in the morning, and Jeffrey woke me up early by shoving a slug in my face. Needless to say I slugged him right back, although in a different context.
I am always in a terrible mood at that time of day.
Considering the (lack of) sleep I had gotten, he probably got off lucky.
My other brother, Ryan, is currently trying to convince my mom to let him breed flies to sell. Really, who is going to buy flies? It’s summertime. People have enough flies of their own.
Whenever I try to swat a fly, he waves his hand to scare it away. He thinks they’re ‘cute’. But he has no objection to killing moths and butterflies, of course.
I’m just rambling now, so I should probably get off.
Au revoir.

(I actually don’t like French much, but I’m putting that there anyway. Don’t ask me why.)