I think The Munch is doing cocaine. She does not stop talking. Her mouth is yapping the entire time her eyes are open. She is also constantly repeating her self, so she might be drinking whisky too? She is getting into something and it sure isn’t Valium.
Now I don’t want to leave her hanging, so I end of up having some pretty insane conversations throughout my day. I feel bad letting her just talk into the wind, so even if she tells me she wants grapes 36 times while we are in the car driving home, I will answer her every time that she will get to eat some goddamn grapes when we get home because I am driving and cannot pull grapes out of my ass… anymore… an old injury makes me flare up.
Munch will also keep talking even if I am having a conversation with someone else. The other day my friend was opening up to me about her fears of moving forward in life, the anxiety of her financial situation, problems with her boyfriend, and every 6 or so seconds I was saying “yes that is a plane” or “you are right, you do have two rocks.” It kind of made my advice a little strange to tell my friend to “try to come to terms with what you actually have control over and what you… yes Elmo is on your diaper…. don’t…”
When I put Munch to bed at night she spends at least a half hour pretending to talk on the phone to her self. She tells stories of her day, and goes through the list of all the people she knows and how they are going “night night.” This is actually quite endearing to listen to… until that moment when she starts talking shit about me.
“Wait… what did you just say? I couldn’t hear you over Munch’s explanation of where her tummy is.”