How being in love turns your brain to candy floss and has the potential to end all human life on earth

I once fell in love with another artichoke. You know the saying ‘fools in love’? Well being enamoured with someone turns me into a drooling half-wit. It’s attractive I can tell you. In fact, my brain morphs with startling immediacy from a fully functioning, highly developed landmark of human evolution to a substance more akin to spun sugar, namely candy floss. Pink candy floss. I float around the house in a sucrose-saturated daze thinking only of the object of my affections. I smile secretly to myself and do stupid things like stroke table tops as I pass them. I sing love songs quietly to myself and remain blithely impervious to the rest of the world, wrapped as I am in my sugary cocoon of love and happiness and rainbows.

It’s enough to make anyone eat their own face off and then drown themselves in carrot juice.

Do you know why being in love sucks so much? You can’t get anything done. My dance company had three gigs during my week of love and my empty candy floss brain was simply not co-operating.

“Ok, for real this time I’m going to go and sit at the computer and email that invoice” I says to myself.

Five minutes later I find myself trying to eat an unpeeled orange with an idiotic grin on my face and a wistful, far-away look in my eye.

(click to enlarge)

Then I try and snap myself out of it and my head voices start arguing;

Head voice no.1: “We have work to do, wake the fuck up!”

Head voice no.2: “Silencio you love-hating slave driver! We are busy thinking about our man!”

Head voice no.1: “We have deadlines and rehearsals and costumes to think about-”

Head voice no.2: “And his body…we definitely have to think about his body.”

Head voice no.3: “Ooh yes, and his general all-around yummyness!”

Head voice no.4: “Frankly I’m inclined to agree with voice number one.”

Head voice no.2: “Oooh get you! Well you would wouldn’t you, you emotionally stunted goat carcass.”

Head voice no.4: “Oh no you didn’t! What did you just say to me?? Hold my weave number one I’m about to get gangster on number two’s ass!”

Before long the argument of the head voices has escalated into fully blown war and my brain cells give up on trying to live in a war-torn environment and endeavor to vacate my head. Unfortunately they seek refuge in my eyeballs and my eyes simply don’t have the natural resources at hand to be able to deal with that large an influx of asylum seekers. So then I end up lying on the floor whimpering in a love crazed stupor and since my brain has imploded and formed a black hole in the cavity of my skull the head voices are finally silenced. On the downside my face is then sucked into the black hole and then the rest of me follows until there is actually nothing left of me at all except for a weird crumpled outline where I had previously been employed in the activity of lying in a heap and twitching. Of course then the black hole just increases in size as it consumes more matter and soon the whole world will have been sucked into oblivion but suddenly alien invaders will appear and they will all be like:

“Meep meep we shall save the highest forms of life on this planet and then regenerate a clone planet blorg shmeep.”

But they’ll get really confused about what the highest forms of life are on earth because humans are all really useless (I mean seriously, we laugh at monkeys who throw their shit round their cage and ruin their own living space but that’s basically what we’ve done) and so the aliens will choose goldfish instead and then in about 56 years and 7 days there will be a clone planet that is exactly like earth except that it is entirely populated by little orange fish with a three-minute memory span.

An Aristocratic Goldfish

I sort of forget what I was talking about at the beginning of this post… reads back to find out… ok got it! Basically, the moral of the story is, don’t fall in love, otherwise we will all end up dead and goldfish will rule a clone-earth for the next six millennia. Yeah…I think that was it.

The Artichoke has spoken.