a telenovela

It’s not T.I.’s “Live Your Life” – that’s for the N.S.A.

Though I’m assuming you wanted to know what song I was actually listening to, which it wasn’t.

Just make sure they know that song’s a banger, Jim, and not shit, just because you know the N.S.A. knows exactly what song we are listening to this very moment, and it’s not that one anymore.

Any more than what?

Anymore than it needs to be for this to be the perfect exit from this life, Jim.

We know.

Your grammar is or isn’t impeccable, Jim, just get over it.


Right the fuck now.

Not that easy.

Linkin Park and Jay-Z.


Witness that shit, nigga.

Witness what?

The song, witness it with your ears.

What song is it?

Fuck it, check out “Live Your Life,” that’s what we’re all listening to anyways.

Check for them, Jim, don’t pretend.

Might be.

You sure you wanna go through all this again?

That’s not what an encore is, nigga.

Who you telling what to right now?

You, nigga.

You waiting for someone or something?

Someone like that.

Like who nigga?

I said.

Said so?

Where do you get your beats from?  That’s what I want to know right now too, nigga.

What if I told you something else right now?

And left that question mark dangling?

No, about music.

Your music or our music?

Cualquier-cosa, nigga.

Starting with a capital there, yep, ok, whenever you want to.

Jims, favorite music?  Favorite song, nigga.

Not sure I want to give that one away.  Not sure?  What can we trade you for it?

You already have it, don’t you?

We might, and they might, but those others may not.

How do you do that shit, nigga?

Introduce ours, yours, they, them, those, and that’s all we have time for here.

Who are you usually talking to?  When you do stand-up, Jim.  We know it’s different now.  When do you think we mean?  Before.  Before what, nigga?  I don’t even know what to tell you, there’s been a lot of events.  Events?  Changes, let’s say.  I didn’t always think about people recording my shit.  That’s different.  Or talking about it?  Not necessarily talking about it, it’s not that, it’s just hard to describe.  Hard to describe?  Who the fuck you think you’re talking to right now, nigga?  You haven’t always been there.  Or here?  Wherever we are.  You think we fucked your shit up?  Maybe, maybe not.  It’s just a maybe then, nigga.

Doing stand-up comedy while you have voices talking to you in your head 24/7, Jim?  It’s entirely possible.  Of course, Jim, anyone can stand up in front of a room of people and say shit out loud for an hour regardless of whether they have headphones on, right?  Might be funny – funny, nigga, for how long?  All your doing is thinking of how to make that shit funny right now by having it link up with the music nobody else can here, as if we aren’t too, nigga, don’t worry.  I don’t want anyone to think it’s impossible to do stand-up just because you are hearing voices.  It’s like having an extra audience.

That’s what I’m talking about, nigga, tell me about this, please.

Off-stage, they are almost like an audience too.  There’s quite a few voices, I don’t really like referring to them as voices because it diminishes what they are to me, I’d prefer headmates, but it just seems like “plain fucking English” to call them voices, now, doesn’t it.

We get It you, dude, don’t worry.

The same headmates that are there all the time, let’s say one at a time basically, yet they all seem to be swimming around as if it’s behind my eyes or something, like they’re not accessible to me, behind the eyes is kind of inaccurate, but they’re not accessible all the time.  Yet they know everything?  Like they’re fucking gossiping behind your back?  Something like that.  So, in real-time, it’s as if there’s someone there all the time who knows everything about you?  That’s why you say “two”?  No, that’s not what we’re getting at.  That’s why you say “too” maybe.  There’s more than two, nigga.  I can’t say how many because new ones can be born all the time.  Born, nigga?  I don’t know what word to use to describe when a new one comes in.  Comes in?  Born?  Visits?  Once they visit, they tend to come back at some point, though, we know, nigga, time.  Some are pretty often, some are pretty rare, they’re kinda like people in your life if your life is at all like that.  You don’t think every time you see people, “when will I see this person again”?  I often do, but not always.

How does this effect your stand-up if we’re talking about music?

I’d like to do some stand-up, yet, now there’s music, and now I’m running for fucking President.

We know.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? It’s like I’m disqualified from doing so much shit that I really need to be doing just to be “electable”?  Electable, nigga, you got your dirty underwear on the internet for sale for $2.4 million, you’re fucking ridiculous – you’re fucking right I am – you better not be ridiculous, because then Probably and Technically will whoop your ass, you hear me right now – not listening – not listening, but you still hear – nigga, I hear shit all the time – hear what – shit all the time about our dirty underwear, you say my underwear, but it’s our fucking underwear, so don’t act like all our underwear isn’t up for grabs for the low, low price of only $2.4 million and if you act now you might find it damn near impossibly to make the transaction because nobody has a $2.4 million credit limit, Jim, nobody that wants to see you become President, don’t you see that, yes, nigga, there’s Irish Golf too, we know, just don’t tell us what song is playing right now.

EDIT: ya, nigga, we know about the dildo shop and all the shit you shut down, but what about you and Lauren’s tea company, nigga?  What the fuck?  Ya, what the fuck back at ya.  We’re not accepting orders, if that means anything to you.  Can I sign up right the fuck now to join a subscription when I can?  Possibly.  Then it’s not shut the fuck down, nigga, it’s still got a website and shit?  Dude, then I gotta take it all offline and then, what, I can’t even web develop anymore?  Like a portfolio?  Ya, nigga, like a portfolio.  Well portfolio your ass somewhere else, nigga, I can’t stand you anymore as a comic than a career politician, so let’s go rob a liquor store and blame it on the Jews or something.