Fuck! I’m dating myself lol.
Today I decided to give myself a call and set up a date, but I didn’t pick up. I was too busy calling myself. Fortunately, I appeared at my house immediately.
“This must be destiny,” I thought. Just as I was thinking about myself, myself showed up.
It was like when you’re in a relationship with someone and you both give each other the same gift. It has never happened to me and I’ll probably delude myself into thinking it’s the foundation for a lifetime together when it does.
I ask myself if I would like to get something to eat or catch a movie and myself informs me that I’ve already eaten and seen all of the movies out worth seeing.
“Suicide Squad was amazing, but The CEO wasn’t as good as I thought that it was going to be.”
I inform myself that I have seen Suicide Squad as well and start to express my feelings about it, but I am quickly cut off by myself as I start to explain my theory on how I think that the movie is an allegory about covert politics in modern day America. I ask myself if allegory is actually the right word to use. Myself rolls my eyes and snickers as I mumble the shit shit! under my breath and then goes on rambling incoherently for at least five minutes about the deeper themes and undertones in the movie that I would understand better if I had ever been in any of those situations (e.g Deathshot’s). I have plans to utterly ruin someone’s life beyond repair in the distant future, but I don’t tell myself that. At this point I realize that this probably isn’t going anywhere and settle on trying to fuck myself by the end of the night, which is how I’m starting to feel like I did to myself by trying out this whole dating myself bullshit in the first place.
I convince myself to check out some movies that I have on my laptop and suggest that I lie down on the bed to watch them because it would be more comfortable than staying on the couch. Myself quickly agrees, which makes me think that I am either really stupid or a whore. Myself picks Poldark to watch and by the time Ross Poldark starts to whine about Elizabeth being betrothed to some guy I have my shirt off with my hand down my pants. And that’s when it dawns on me that I’m not gay. Not that I have anything against homosexuals, but I’d rather buy a Sam Smith album or a Michael Sam jersey in support than join them. I, however, quickly calm my nerves as I touch myself and click on a porn clip entitled “Big Booty Cumshot Cumpilation” that has been saved in some obscure folder on my laptop. I roughly give myself a handjob as I begin to realize that I’m acting out some type of homo-erotic Chuck Palahniuk wet dream.
“I am Lamide’s fuck buddy.”
The whole thing starts to make my dick go limp until I inform myself that I’ve done this before. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. Just as quickly as it starts it’s over and I nervously start rambling about how I have to get up early in the morning to go to work and that I should probably leave. Myself informs me that I work remotely and that I can stay home if I choose. How I knew that puzzles me. Did I go through my phone?
I instantaneously black out and start snoring at an audible level that starts to rattle the furniture. Luckily I can sleep through anything so I don’t keep myself awake. I get up at three o’clock in the morning to urinate and have sex with myself again. This time it doesn’t seem so strange. A part of me thinks that I could actually get use to this. Maybe this could actually work. I’ll have to talk to myself about my future later, but for now I’ll just enjoy this time alone with myself.