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The place where the world comes together in honesty and mirth.
Windmills Tilted, Scared Cows Butchered, Lies Skewered on the Lance of Reality ... or something to that effect.


Friday, September 23, 2011

The Psychiatrist's Office


Patient: "I have this terrible problem, Doctor. I think I'm a dog. I walk around on all fours, I keep barking in the middle of the night, and I eat dog food."

Psychiatrist: "Very interesting. Lie down on the couch, please."

Patient: "I'm not allowed on the couch."

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