NIKKI AWESOME CLONEI’m in the middle (or, dare I say it, close to the end – is that jinxy?) of writing a comedy series (don’t ask), working part-time as a faaaabulous publicist (don’t ask, don’t tell), writing and recording a new EP (tell you later), and learning how to mix from an excessively boring book about home-recording, in addition to a full dance card and managing the hideous minutiae of day to day life admin.  I hear you saying “Great Balzac’s beard, woman – have you the arms of Ganesh? How do you manage? What *IS your Secret!?”

Look, it was never my intention to be a “supermom.” It just happened while I was busy not having kids and focusing all of my attention on myself.  But the “secret”.. well, like any “well-adjusted creative type” (the most popular phrase in NARNIA magazine), the answer is “I don’t SLEEP.”

“Jeez, I have so much on the go,” I hear people say – note: not actually.  I haven’t interacted with mortals since 1959, but I presume you still use slang like “jeezum,” “dang” and “cripes” – “I wish I could CLONE myself!” Yeah – GREAT idea.  If you’re a fucking moron. 

Let’s first discuss your desire for a clone. I ‘m going to go with the “I’m REALLY busy; so can someone else do X” reasoning as for your desire to have a clone and not the “So I can watch myself ‘doing it’ without the cumbersome mirror and/or tripod” one – note: you can tell this is scientific because I used an algebraic value in the initial statement. 

Moral/ethical dilemmas aside (except for the obvious What do I do if my clone starts murdering? which I assume would be covered in the manual), there are a host of problems associated with cloning – and that’s not even getting into the awkward conversations like “Oh, hey! Hi! So, welcome to consciousness, other me! You’ll love it. We have rainbows, YouTube videos of puppies who can’t roll over and GOD – the orgasmic sensory overload of freshly-baked banana bread! So, anyway, about those kidneys of yours….”

So: you’re a busy person with a filofax and eight iPhones syncing your iCal with spin, fencing and clay-shooting classes while remembering to FaceTime your husband to remind him to sign the amicable divorce papers (he gets the kids, you get the dog and the apartment). SIGH. Insert “oh my GOD, Ramona, I need a goddamn clone, swear. By the way, these Crantinis are fantastic – Did you get the recipe from 1994?” This is the part of your life where my hologram smacks you. Reel. 

1. Your problem is that you’re busy (and also stupid).  So you get a clone to alleviate your busy-ness.  Great.  Perfect, right?  WRONG.  You know all that stuff you and only you can do because everyone else will just fuck it up?  You have to now add “micromanage the shit out of my clone” to the list of your troubles.  Have you ever watched a teenager type in a fast-food order at McDonalds?  They’re shit!  Why do you think they’ve outsourced all those jobs to middle-aged people?!  note – I haven’t been in a McDonald’s since 1994, but I’m working on the assumption that this is all true. Your clone is a clone, not an android. Maybe it’s an android you’re looking for, who can be programmed to sync with your fucking iCal, idiot!  (pause for the total nerdgasm that just happened in your Dungeons and Dragons pants)  All the time you think you’re going to be saving by cloning yourself – cancel that out and make yourself a slave to boring bullshit for the length of time it takes you to poison/cryogenically freeze your clone.

2. It will probably be illegal to kill your clone, if he/she starts acting like a dick.  You think pro-lifers are annoying?  OMG IMAGINE when all the anti stem-cell douches start trying to start some bullshit non-musical Les Misèrables revolution with your clone after introducing them to moonshine in a back alley – encouraging them to build a clone resistance in hushed grumbles about picking up your dry cleaning after you forgot the tag and for forcing them to get barcode tramp stamps in order to be UPS’d back home after going AWOL. Has Attack of the Clones taught you nothing (besides how to make a really shitty movie for millions of dollars)?  Clones ATTACK.

3. Think about who will clone themselves.  Sure, first it will be the Sir Richard Bransons and with any luck the Richard E Grants and Leonardo DiCaprios will start – note. Gisele’s clones will be called Gisele Bunchof’em because that’s typically how I pronounce her name anyway.  But think about the long list of shitty celebutards who will be cloned long before it’s annoying that your gross neighbour (with the four eyebrows that blend into his neck-fuzz) gets cloned.  Do you need me to pain(t) you a picture here? Star Jones, Céline, Brody Jenner, Paris Hilton and Chris Brown will all have clones.  There will be 6 Honey Boo Boo clones all winning staged grand supreme titles on each of the clone TLC superstations.

4. Clone-oriented television.  OMG I can’t even handle this as a concept.  Like when the same brand does a “lifestyle” version of the same commercial to suit the identity of a station’s demographic.  “If you like regular AquaFresh Toothpaste, you’ll squeal for new GAY AquaFresh!”  I can’t go any further with this without freaking myself out.

5. Clones cloning clones.  And the way this will dominate the “Babies having Babies” HOT TOPIC on THE VIEW.

6. Anti-cloning Clones being marginalised for not thinking simple existence is enough. Do we really need to be ghettoized within our own community? OMG the Clone Journal is already the most tedious publication since Everything Not TATLER.

7. Do you think clones come potty-trained? Are you willing to take on this role at this juncture in your busy life? Oh, you expect the government to take the initiative here? Cue the tax hikes.

8. Clones committing crimes and framing their originators.  So plausible.  Welcome to Clonedom, population: you – in jail.  And to top it all off the jails are full of clones that have been the scapegoat for Originator-led crime, so you’re basically a cop-killing pedophile to them.  Enjoy!

9. Clone-Strikes.  “Hey, other me – d’you mind going to this awesome post Golden Globes party at a mansion in Malibu and doing amphetamines off Tom Hardy’s abs? I’m just kinda, you know, worn out.”  Because that sentence will ever happen, right? You really only want your clone to do all the shit stuff you don’t want to do, and they are totally synced-in on your iCal, so they know what’s coming down the pipe.  Two nights  before Bane is like “we should totally do it,” your clone suddenly comes down with “Whoops, I totally forgot to do all your tax returns, send your thank-you notes and manage your laundry”-ITIS, following up with a shrug and a “I guess its just down to HUMAN ERROR” comment that makes you totally suspicious.

10. You can’t kill them, remember?

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