My inner voice is a random sarcastic idiot

So there I was at 2am today, lying in bed, iPhone in hand, making notes of what I should blog about. As you do. Instead of sleeping. Which is apparently something I don't do. As you do. Do do. Oh Dog I'm so tired.

OK actually they were sarcastic random sentences that I'll be sarcastically and randomly inserting as my blogger/Twitter bio and/or subject of my blog in coming weeks/months/eons.

One sentence in particular caught my eye.

My inner voice is a random sarcastic idiot.*

Interesting, isn't it, what crazy bullshit truisms slide out of the subconscious to slam you between the eyes gambol across your sleep-deprived brain in the wee small hours?

I should have risen from bed at that point and started writing this rambling drivel stimulating blog post but frankly, insomnia saps my ability to do much except make iPhone notes and needily Twitter-stalk British actors. Cos they're the only ones who are awake at that time, OK? (Sorry Ben Miller).

Where was I...

My inner arsehole random sarcastic idiot. Having one of these is a serious affliction. Don't believe me? Well here's an example. When limping pathetically with a broken ankle walking elegantly through Melbourne airport two weeks ago, I saw this sign: 

Yes OK I was too busy lurching and swearing to take a photo
so here's an artist's impression of the sign.
It's not the real sign. So pedantic, you people.

My random sarcastic idiot (let's call it my RSI from now on - I'm running on TWO HOURS SLEEP AND THE SAME NUMBER OF SCONES, PEOPLE! so tired) reflected that actually, it wasn't way out at all. It was quite conservative, as it happens.

Really? Thank you brain. My rational brain shook its head, tsk tsking sadly, much the same as you're doing now.

Fifteen years ago I witnessed a caption that could have adorned the publicity headshot of every Australian politician elected since then.

"Fresh Fillets of Fathead' was carefully, lovingly spelled out on a sign above fish fillets in the supermarket.

These days my RSI would be grabbing her iPhone and splashing that photo all over Twittsville and Blogwood. This alone is proof that there was once - unbelievably - a time when people didn't take a Bazillion GB camera with them to do the grocery shopping.

On the subject of supermarkets, in the spirit of feeding my RSI even in the most mundane of locations, here is a sign spotted at Woolworths on the weekend:

 No, I know it's not an artist's impression this time.
You people need to calm down.

Is the Canned Fish stationary? LET'S HOPE SO. Shudder.

That'd make stacking and sorting the shelves REALLY funny to watch dangerous.

Is the inability to lie still in a dark can with your fishy elbow up another fish's nostril be stationary one of the criteria for being rejected by John West?

What damage could a 250g can of dolphin free tuna in olive oil with chili and onion do, hurtling at 60 kilometres an hour towards your head?

Maybe this sign is an actually a Occupational Health and Safety warning. Do shelf stackers get danger money? Maybe they should.

So tonight I'm hoping my inner random sarcastic idiot will STFU so I can sleep. For the sake of the rest of my brain and the online safety of British actors everywhere.

Do you have an inner random sarcastic idiot? How has this affliction affected your life?

* Sometimes my outer voice is too. Not often.**
** Not often = all the time