Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Shut-up Button

First off, readers, I'd like to take a moment to recognize that this is my HUNDREDTH POST! I honestly never thought I'd ever reach this number; I'm usually just too lazy to carry on anything for this long. So thanks to all the people who've supported/pestered me to keep it up, and I hope that I can continue to make way too big a deal out of very inconsequential things for a long time to come.
Alright, pressing onward:

I talk a lot. No, really. A LOT. I can get away with this when I blog cause people on the internet seem to enjoy my insane rambling for some bizarre reason, and if they don't, they can just ignore it. In real life, however, there is no such mercy. I don't speak much to people I don't really know cause I'm socially awkward. However, when I'm with people I associate with comfortably and regularly, I poke my head out of my cave, blink my beady eyes, scratch my head with my club, then open my mouth and emit a series of grunts and whines in order to exercise my ability to mash words together in my head and make them come out my mouth. This usually continues for some time, picking up steam until my face finally morphs into a gaping void of endless prattling from which there is no escape.

I've never been on the receiving end, but I'm pretty sure that this is what a conversation with me looks like.

It's not as though I'm trying to talk anybody to death; I just want everybody to get as much information as possible... (I'll have you know that I cut several rambling sentences explaining this concept from this post for your sakes.)

My mother has the good fortune of having access to a "shut-up button" in the form of the CD I use to practice singing. As I follow her around the house and prattle endlessly about my latest story idea or whatever my current thought-process is, she can, at any moment, switch on the practice CD. I, having been conditioned to respond immediately to this CD, will stop dead in my tracks and start running vocal exercises, and my mother is given a half hour of reprieve.

Lately, I've started taking this shut-up button as a hint that mom probably wants me to zip it for a few hours (unless I haven't been talking, in which case she just really wants me to get off my lazy hinders and practice my voice,) and I'll usually slink off to do something quiet and constructive for a while, like talking to the internet instead (that's constructive, right?)

I've been thinking about this, and I've decided it's really unfair that my mom gets the luxury of getting me to shut up so easily when nobody else does. For that reason, I'm going to establish a convenient shut-up button in the middle of my forehead. That way, if I've gotten myself into an infinite loop of rambling, my victim can just reach out, poke me in the forehead, and say "boop!" The hint will be taken and the yammering shall cease, without even having to listen to me do vocal exercises afterward. And there shall be much rejoicing.

In fact, there are a lot of people who ought to have a shut-up button. The next time somebody has you trapped in a corner as they endlessly flap their jaws at you, I dare you to go press their forehead and say "boop!" See what happens. Record your results and report back to me.
I think I may be onto something big here.


Anonymous said...

I say we all tattoo it onto our heads. Then when you want someone to shut up you just smile and poke their head and they know.

You are verified. Epathe.

Octavian said...

I'm pretty sure I need one of those buttons on my forehead. Or people could just tell me to stop talking. That would work too.

The Erin said...

Heck if they're ever going to do that. People are too polite. I guess we're just going to have to start sticking out for each other, eh?

Steph-a-Neph said...

Just so you know, when the two of us are together, you ramble and I ramble and we ramble and ramble and you talk and I talk and we talk and talk and eventually it turns out that we are shouting over each other so that the other one of us can hear what we have to say. It's loud. It's fun. But maybe I will press your forehead and say "boop!" next time, just to see if it works. ;)

Meg said...

I thought about writing a mean comment along the lines of "someone must have pressed the shut-up button on your blog," but decided against it. See? I can so totally be mature.