I thought I might interview myself:
Phil: So. What’s up.
Phil: Uh huh.
Me: Excuse me?
Phil: Quick, seven times eight!
Me: Uh, what? It’s… fifty four.
Me: What kind of interview is this?
Phil: Fine, so you like writing.
Phil: That’s cool, I do too.
Me: That makes sense.
Phil: I’m asking the questions here!
Me: That wasn’t a question.
Phil: The question was implied.
Me: By an idiot.
Phil: Haha, you just insulted yourself.
Me: You’re doing a good job of it yourself.
Phil: Haha, you just insulted yourself again.
Me: OK, whatever, I’m off.
Phil: No, fine, fine, here, let’s see. What kind of questions would you like me to ask?
Me: How about stuff to do with writing, First Million Words, etc.
Me: But fascinating?
Phil: How about I ask about what happened on that road outside your apartment in Sydney that night back in 2005.
Me: How about you don’t.
Phil: Alright. Boring. Fine, whyareyourwritingFirstMillionWords.
Me: Well, it all started at the end of last year, when-
Me: It’s not boring, it’s actually quite cool.
Phil: BORING BORING I want nutella.
Me: Ooh, nutella, good idea. But it’s 10AM.
Phil: So? We’re adults now. We can eat what we want when we want.
Me: True… and we do have a large loaf of sour dough to slather it on.
Phil: Let’s cut a really thick slice, then toast it so the outside gets crispy but the inside of the slice stays fresh and spongey.
Me: Sounds like a plan. Hi five!
Phil: Whatever. Let’s go eat!