I Love You, You Love Me…

July 31, 2009

We are just a big, fu**ing, fantastically happy family. Or, maybe not. 

I am back from my hiatus and before I start ranting about how I don’t even know who Erin Andrews is or how the black guy and white cop are both douche bags of the nth degree; I figure I owe you a bit of an explanation. 

I haven’t been feeling great either mentally or physically for several weeks. I went to the doctor and he ran a battery of tests. Turns out, I am physically fine. This means, all of my issues are in my brain. Fortunately, I already knew this. 

My doctor suggested I see a psychiatrist. He/she might be able to give me a blue, or yellow, or pink pill that will make everything right in the world for me. Ever the team player, I accepted his offer and off I went. 

My new psychiatrist is about 70 years old. That’s cool because, although I think all old people should be killed, some of them can be kind of smart. The doctor talked at me for some period of time without ever actually looking me in the eyes. I thought there was some sort rule about eye contact but I guess I was wrong. 

I told the good doc that I have a blog and he might want to peruse it to see what I am like…at least part of me. He nods for a moment and then says, “Blog…what exactly is a blog? Is that an Interweb thing?” I tried to explain but he remained completely perplexed by the concept for the entire meeting. Also, at this point he started quoting scripture and telling me all about Jesus. Sadly, this was to be my last meeting with this enlightened professional. 

Dr. Old as Dirt did suggest I read “The Four Agreements” and “One Minute For Yourself”. Since I like to read, and even though the good doc was dead to me, I followed through and read both books. Essentially, they are the written versions of Stuart Smalley’s self affirmation. “I’m, good enough, I’m smart enough, and dog gone-it, people like me”.  If I love myself and love everyone else, the world will be my oyster. 

Fu** that noise. I would sooner kill myself then go around with a sugar coated smile pasted on my firm yet subtle lips all day. I can’t stand the thought of being part of the legion of lemmings and, if that makes me a depressed, deranged, psychopath, so be it. At least I will be laughing my way to oblivion.

So there you have my little story. It was good to have some time off but I am back. Maybe I won’t be as prolific as before but something is better than nothing. I leave you with an old joke but one that I am sure my new/ex doctor would approve of. 

What is the difference between Sarah Palin’s vagina and mouth?

Only one retarded thing has come out of her vagina. 

Thank you and be sure to tip the bartender. Much love, TL