“I don’t know what to do with this review, so I’ll do the mature thing, play that Marry/Fuck/Kill game. Brain, heart, and I guess Stomach because he shows up a few times.
Brain and heart are tough. On the one hand, heart is the clear choice for Fuck, but then you’ve got to spend an entire lifetime married to brain or stomach. But if you fuck Brain, then you can marry heart and have a lifetime of whimsy, which is probably like being married to Natalie Portman from Garden State and really annoying. How did Natalie Portman get that role? Was Zooey Deschalelkfd busy that day? Growing a field of dandelions intentionally and constructing a giant fan to blow the seeds off them? Making her own flavors of gum? Other whimsical shit?
Although, wait a second, Natalie Portman was ALSO in Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, reprising almost the same role. I could have sworn that was Zooey. What the fuck is Natalie Portman doing? She’s does The Professional, then a Star War, then Garden State, then another Star War, then Mr. Magorium, then Black Swan. What the fuck, Portman? I guess any Portman in a storm, eh?
I can’t marry heart. Can I marry brain?
I’m pretty sure that in a real-life sense, I’m ALREADY married to brain. I wake up at night and have to actively tell myself to stop thinking about stuff before I can fall back asleep. Not like Einstein equations and shit, not smart stuff. Just thinking about nonsense like which volumes of The Walking Dead I own or something. I heard that you should keep a notebook by the bed and write that stuff down and then you can let go and sleep, but none of the stuff I think about is worth writing down. I don’t want to have a notebook on the nightstand that says, “Krang > Shredder b/c has his own dimension!”
I can’t marry heart, and I can’t marry brain, so it looks like wedding bells for me and stomach. Which is fine. I ate three lunches today, and they were the three best parts of the day.
They say The One is whoever makes you into the best version of you, and food makes me into the best version of me, or at least the version that’s not AS testy and dickish, so Stomach, let’s get hitched.
I guess then the fucking goes with Heart. When you get down to Heart and Brain in that one, easy choice.
And that means I have to kill Brain. Which is too bad, but them’s the breaks.
I’ll probably kill Brain, THEN fuck Heart in hopes that my spirits will be raised by the fucking, and then I’ll be ready to settle in to a nice life with stomach. And probably ready for tacos as well.”