TIM: Deborah, I'd like to speak with you about your newest obsession.
ME: Christian Bale?
TIM: *chuckling* No. That's harmless, he's as imaginary as I am in terms of interfering with your life.
ME: What other obsession are you referring to?
TIM: Your IPod.
ME: OH! My new bestest buddy ever?
TIM: *withering* Yes, exactly, your "bestest buddy ever". I'm afraid this is problematic.
ME: Really? It's just music...and an audio book...and a comic album...and my meditation CDs...and three movies...but, they're all Christian Bale's. It's like a 2 x 3 inch library that I can go in and shut the door and no one else comes in.
TIM: You're making my argument for me. You are spending a little too much time on that item. You've become a tad dependent, a bit needy. The other day you panicked when you thought your battery was running low and you swerved over three lanes of traffic onto a sidewalk to get into a Mac store just to ask for an "emergency battery squirt" to charge it long enough to get you home. That's not natural.
ME: Tim, neither is this conversation but that doesn't worry you much. And besides, those people crossing the street didn't get hurt. They were young, they could run fast. They saw me coming. And that lady with the baby carriage was just way too dramatic.
TIM: Oh, don't be fooled by my calm demeanor. I am plenty worried sister, PLENTY! It's just that there's only room for one disaster per dialogue and your IPod is winning. Perhaps it's time to rethink having more human interaction. Human beings aren't so bad, you gave birth to several and if you don't put your fingers too close to their mouths when they're hungry they seldom bite.
ME: You really aren't helping.
TIM: You really aren't trying.
ME: What? I can't hear you...you know...the volume is up on my IPod thingy....WHAT?
*back of Tim's head*