Who is this Narcissus guy?
Yesterday someone called me a narcissist and I asked, a what?
A narcissist! You are in love with yourself.
My name’s not Narcissus. I’ve never met this guy, and I’ve been down a lot of rivers.
Thankfully I’ve never been up the river. Maybe that’s where this Narcissus guy is.
My name is Paul. Am I a paulisist?
Hmmm. If I’m a publicist, does that mean I love pubs? I do! Okay, I’m a proud publicist.
So, am I a paulisist? Do I love myself?
What does being in love with myself look like?
I don’t buy myself roses on V-Day. I don’t take myself out for romantic dinners. But if I did, wouldn’t that be Split Personality Disorder? That means I’m sick, so it’s not my fault.
On the other hand, I make love to myself all the time. It’s pretty boring because I fall asleep immediately after, and there aren’t many positions I can do it in. For example, doggy style totally puts my trapezius and latissimus dorsi muscles out. My favourite position is just staring at the video on the computer screen.
When Narcissus saw himself in the river, did he make love to himself? If he did, I’m not swimming in that river. Yuk.
It’s enough that I had a group of Grouper having group sex around my legs in that river.
I go for long romantic walks with myself, like to the beer store.
I also nag myself a lot, so maybe I should marry myself. Common law is better for now. I can't afford to divorce myself.
Popular culture constantly tells me to have healthy self-esteem, and yet narcissists supposedly have too much self-esteem. Geez – so my self-esteem can go to 10 but not 11? How fussy is that?
Is it really that bad that I'm a paulisist? I'm confused.
Oprah tells me to believe in myself and Joel Osteen tells me to believe in God.
