dragonlady7

IM conversation of the night, with Dave's buddy Corey:

C: My icon is Jimmy Page, guitarist for Led Zeppelin
Me: Oh.
Well. Obviously. I have a picture of him in my wallet.
11:35 PM
C: Right?
Me: Totally. I carry it with me everywhere.
Me: Sometimes, I talk to it.
Me:"Jimmy Page," I say, "guitarist for Led Zeppelin," I say, "what would you do in this situation?"
Me: And he never fucking answers, the bastard.
C: ha
C: He's quite famous in his way
Me: He answers you, doesn't he.
C: In my heart.
Me: Ohhhhh.
Me: I didn't know you had speakers in your heart.
Me: is that good for you?
C: I don't know if it's healthy, but it feels so right
Me: Huh. I was thinking about it, but I'm really not too compelled by it. I mean, what if I get them put in, and then someone lame like Ann Coulter gets a direct line?
Me: Then I'd have some conservative bitch telling shit to my heart.
Me: And that would suck.
Me: But man, I'd love a direct line to the speakers in Dick Cheney's heart.
I'd be telling him shit all the time, I tell you.
C: So you turn a microphone towards your heart, and she just gets this shot of feedback
Me: Yow, I hadn't thought of that.
C: For real.
Me: A vision has entered my mind. A vivid one.
C: Oh?
Me: Of myself, dishevelled, standing in Guitar Center with a microphone to my chest
C: hahaha
Me: shrieking "Get out of my heart, you inhuman bitch!"
C: That'd be awesome!
Me: I should do that.
Especially if I could contrive to blow out the wall of speakers in a dramatic explosion of sparks, and then run like hell.
Me: And get the entire ordeal on video...
C: All to the tune of Heartbreaker by Pat Benatar