Ever since I was a child, I've always had a fear of someone under my bed at night. So I went to a shrink and told him “I've got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there's somebody under it. I'm scared. I think I'm going crazy.”Forget the shrinks. Have a drink and talk to a bartender!
“Just put yourself in my hands for one year,' said the shrink. “Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears..'
“How much do you charge?”
“Eighty dollars per visit,” replied the doctor.
“I'll sleep on it,” I said.
Six months later the doctor met me on the street. “Why didn't you come to see me about those fears you were having?” he asked.
“Well, Eighty bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! A bartender cured me for $10. I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought me a new pickup!”
“Is that so!' With a bit of an attitude he said, “And how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?”
“He told me to cut the legs off the bed! Ain't nobody under there now!!!”
Monday, December 5, 2011
Via my mom. Once again, I'm not certain what message she's really sending:
A seasonal oldie-but-goodie, via my mom:
The Supreme Court has ruled that there cannot be a Nativity Scene in the United States' Capital this Christmas season.
This isn't for any religious reason. They simply have not been able to find three Wise Men in the nation's Capitol.
A search for a Virgin continues.
There was no problem, however, finding enough asses to fill the stable.