Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A New Hobby That Maybe Is Court-Ordered But I Wanted to do It Anyway(s)

Dear Feelings Diary,

My very stupid court-appointed psychiatrist said that I should keep you so that we can do something something emotions, but I wasn't really paying attention because I'm pretty sure she was flirting with me like THE WHOLE TIME I was in her office, and maybe that sounds unbelievable to YOU, Diary. But maybe you should just mind your own business and stop calling me a liar.

She was totally hitting on me because she asked if I was on any medications and that means she wants to care for me and then I said "I have a bottle of expired cat anti-depressants that I take when I want to get my party on!" and when I winked real big in that exaggerated cartoon way that is probably just about to make a comeback, she didn't say anything, but just scribbled in her notepad real furiously for a minute or two. She was probably writing down her phone number and then doing a quick sketch of me like Leonardo DiCaprio did of Kate Winslet in Titanic. I think he did that right before he nailed her. So this doctor was obviously sending me signals.

So how am I feeling today, you might ask? Well check this shit out, Diary. There was a test of the Emergency Broadcast System today on the radio and at first I had angry feelings because when it says "This is only a test" a bunch of times I feel like it is being very condescending and treating me like a four year old. But after my angry feelings I had happy feelings because I remembered how that psychiatrist was checking out my junk and sure maybe that was only because I pulled it out in the middle of the session and started doing Broadway cane twirls with it, but she didn't say "Stop!" for at least 3 seconds so obviously she's into me.

And then I went back to angry feelings because the Emergency Broadcast System made a loud noise that made me stop thinking about all the sexy psycho-analysis and I was afraid it wasn't only a test because what if during my fantasy we were actually attacked? If I were a Nazi or a Commie or a shadowy Dutch saboteur I would totally explode the world during a test of the Emergency Broadcast System because everyone would be all "It's ONLY a test." and then POW! You're all dead. Case closed. So then I had anxious feelings and I ducked and covered just to be safe but the people in line behind me at the bank started making funny eyes at me because they thought it was only a test. So I pulled down my pants and crapped on the floor to get their attention and started screaming "What if it ISN'T only a test, fuckers!" and then the cops showed up. And then I have to keep a stupid feelings diary.

It was all just a mix up is my point. Let's agree to disagree.

Fuck you, Diary.

Kurt

24 comments:

notthatkindofgirlblog said...

Shit, you mean you're not a Dutch saboteur?! Then why did I spent four hours trying to decrypt your last post with a Dutch-to-English dictionary?!

The Vegetable Assassin said...

The Emergency Broadcast System is a two faced little slut. Making you lose your funk at inopportune moments! Shame on that hussy.

Logical Libby said...

Are you sure the EBS wasn't trying to tell you something about life? Think hard...

Wow, that was awkward said...

I had a totally hot therapist. I began to go there solely in hopes that she would suddenly give me a blowjob. I know she wanted to.

That Baldy Fella said...

Oh, come on, surely everyone's pulled down their pants and made a dirty protest on the floor whilst queueing for something once in a while? No? Better start keeping that feelings diary then...

Prosy said...

you've been watching desperate housewives, haven't you?

Spot said...

Psychiatrists always want to bang their patients. It's like a law. That's why so many pervs become therapists. They're like kids in a candy shop.

I'm totally going to pay more attention to EBS now. Because you just never know.

♥Spot

BugginWord said...

"Broadway cane twirls?" I may need a visual aid.

Jen O. said...

That post was wrought with scenes I was forced to visualize and can never un-see. Once again, you sir have given me a reason to invent brain-bleach. And that brain-bleach I intend to call "Vodk-y."

Sarah P said...

Broadway cane twirls. Huh.

See? I don't think she was impressed, and this is why:

The spinning bowtie (only with the penis instead) trick would have had much more impact.

Vic said...

When you did the cane twirls move did she push her panic button?

The one behind her desk, I mean?

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

I can tell my therapist is flirting with me by the candy he keeps in the bowl on the table. Um...Mounds? Hello?? So obvious! No, you can't touch my "mounds" you pervert! I don't want your Butterfinger either, jerk.

Wow, that was awkward said...

@steamy: You won't let him have your Bit-O-Honey?

Carolyn...Online said...

Your emotional diary is going to need medication.

Miss Yvonne said...

I went to a therapist once after a bad breakup. That chick was all over me...she was all "here's a tissue" and "here's another tissue" and "oops my breast accidentally popped out of my shirt" and I was all "Stop! I'm an emotional wreck, not a lesbian!". Also maybe the boob part didn't happen.

Char said...

Okay, now I'm off to buy a feelings journal. I can't believe my therapist hasn't already asked me to do that. But I don't think she's ever checked out my junk either. ;)

Ed Adams said...

Your diary is a total bitch.

And disrespectful of your handsomeness.

miss. chief said...

You're probably right. I know every time I want to get busy with somebody I whip out my sketchbook and do a quick portrait.

Kurt said...

@NTKOGB: I'm too tired from figuring out your acronym to respond. Phew!

@VeggieAss: The EBS is such a whiner. I hate it.

@Logical Libby: Okay, I thought hard, and what I decided was these pants make my ass look fantastic.

@WTWA: That's why people BECOME therapists probably. All the BeeJays they get to hand out. It's like the free toothbrush at the dentist's

@Baldy: I love the phrase "dirty protest". That's my new favorite Briticism.

@Prosy: No! (*flips channel, hides remote*)

@Spot: You can't be too careful. I mean YOU specifically, Spot. I've heard things.

@Buggin: I am a delightful trial size of crazy.

@Jen O: I like to think of this more as a "theater of the mind". It's just that this theater has some structural damage after a recent fire. And also no popcorn. And allit plays is porn apparently.

@Sarah P: The bowtie trick I save for my urologist.

@Vic: Ba-dump-bump Chhh! :)

@Becks: Something something... O Henry!

@Carolyn: Also something to unstick the pages.

@Miss Yvonne: Any woman who has boobs under her shirt is hitting on everyone. That's why God invented them.

@Char: Maybe you should offer to pay her extra.

@Ed: I know, right? This diary needs to learn what's what.

@miss.chief: Every time I want to get busy with someone I have to wait for the roofies to kick in.

Peggy said...

I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點 I正義弄濕了我的褲子一點

ps...I just wet my pants a little.

Tish said...

As far as shrinks go, which do you think came first? The sluttiness or the couch?

HappyHourSue said...

For someone like me with anxiety issues? The Emergency Broadcast System Test is like if you had a fear of heights and randomly once a month your house would shoot 95 stories up and then plummet back down and be all: just testing.

A Vapid said...

I think I want to start seeing a therapist...just to have someone check out my junk. And give me meds. Or maybe I will become a therapist and just check out my own junk.

I also have a really hard time commenting here for some stupid reason it always just says A Vapid...and leads to nothing. Probably apropo.

Fragrant Liar said...

Okay, so now I need to call a psychiatrist too.

I hope I get a man. Psychiatrist, that is. Not that I hope to get a man, cuz that is totally not on my radar right now.

I'm dialing, I'm dialing.