I'm a psychotherapist and I don't know if you are like me, I have a hard time turning off my profession when I am on break. Like when I eat lunch, I watch the squirrels, and I'm thinking: the Tourette's syndrome with the tail, twitching the tail, fluffing the tail, the OCD of finding nuts and burying them, the gaining weight all summer and then holing up in a tree all winter watching TV pregnant, creating Seasonal Affective Disorder and the throwing of themselves in front of cars. I think to myself, 20 mg of Zoloft would give them a tremendous amount of relief. If I had them in therapy we could talk about whether their parents were overly critical of the way you cleaned your room, or a tad too controlling of your diet? Is that what led to the pattern of only eating sprouted nuts and seeds, no raw nuts and seeds? Sometimes I think all of us look forward to the day when universal health coverage will extend even to the less fortunate little ones living among us. We all imagine a day when fluffy tailed little ones and no-tailed little ones will frolic together in the backyard, equally sedated by pharmaceuticals.
Which reminds me of what my good friend Vinnie Van Gogh used to say:
"Ik kan niet het feit veranderen dat mijn schilderijen niet verkopen. Maar de tijd zal komen dat mensen zullen erkennen dat zij meer waard zijn dan de waarde van de verf die ik heb gebruikt in het schilderij."
However, as you probably already guessed, that was before the Earlobe Incident.
And what were you thinking, Vinnie, sending your ex- your earlobe? Whenever I broke up with a girlfriend I thought of sending... Sheila... many... things, but never... an earlobe. Vinnie, you need to put yourself in Jessica's shoes:
Because Jessica was like: "I am an exotic dancer, and I said to Vinnie, I said, exotic dancers are emotional--it comes with the territory. And so after we'd been dating a while Vinnie became like intense, and it was playing with my head, and interfering with my artistic interpretations when I, like, pole dance. My stage name is Cherry Pie, and I perform down at the Gong Arena. You should stop by some time. I make pretty good tips. His paintings were weird, like swirly stars and dark eyes, and I'm not fond of yellow. And I said to him, I said, I need some space. I think it would be better if we were just friends for a while, so we can see other people. So he gets all uptight and weird.
"And so the next thing I know I get a card in the mail, and I think, " Oh, wow! A card. And I'm going, "this is so sweet!" and then I opened it, and there was his earlobe. I ask you, like are you girls going to go like, "Oh, wow, my boyfriend sent me his earlobe. He must really, like, love me. I think I'm going to like, hook back up with him"? I mean I remember telling him he had cute earlobes. And there were other parts of his body I told him were cute, too. But those of you who have had body parts mailed to you, wouldn't you agree that body parts are not nearly as cute when they arrive in the mail?
"And all of you who have mailed body parts, I ask you: did the relationship last?
"So when Vinnie called me I asked him: 'Vinnie? Have you been feeding your medication to the squirrels again?'"
Which reminds me of what my good friend Vinnie Van Gogh used to say:
"Ik kan niet het feit veranderen dat mijn schilderijen niet verkopen. Maar de tijd zal komen dat mensen zullen erkennen dat zij meer waard zijn dan de waarde van de verf die ik heb gebruikt in het schilderij."
However, as you probably already guessed, that was before the Earlobe Incident.
And what were you thinking, Vinnie, sending your ex- your earlobe? Whenever I broke up with a girlfriend I thought of sending... Sheila... many... things, but never... an earlobe. Vinnie, you need to put yourself in Jessica's shoes:
Because Jessica was like: "I am an exotic dancer, and I said to Vinnie, I said, exotic dancers are emotional--it comes with the territory. And so after we'd been dating a while Vinnie became like intense, and it was playing with my head, and interfering with my artistic interpretations when I, like, pole dance. My stage name is Cherry Pie, and I perform down at the Gong Arena. You should stop by some time. I make pretty good tips. His paintings were weird, like swirly stars and dark eyes, and I'm not fond of yellow. And I said to him, I said, I need some space. I think it would be better if we were just friends for a while, so we can see other people. So he gets all uptight and weird.
"And so the next thing I know I get a card in the mail, and I think, " Oh, wow! A card. And I'm going, "this is so sweet!" and then I opened it, and there was his earlobe. I ask you, like are you girls going to go like, "Oh, wow, my boyfriend sent me his earlobe. He must really, like, love me. I think I'm going to like, hook back up with him"? I mean I remember telling him he had cute earlobes. And there were other parts of his body I told him were cute, too. But those of you who have had body parts mailed to you, wouldn't you agree that body parts are not nearly as cute when they arrive in the mail?
"And all of you who have mailed body parts, I ask you: did the relationship last?
"So when Vinnie called me I asked him: 'Vinnie? Have you been feeding your medication to the squirrels again?'"