The other day I had an appointment with my shrink.
Nobody wants to hear another person whine and moan and complain about the bad things in their lives and that is how shrinks came to make a good living.T hey make alot of money to listen to people complain about things while other people starve in Africa. Now the word ‘Shrink’ is short for the combined terms of ‘head-shrinker’ which was originally applied to the profession of the psychiatrist, but has since become a catch-all term for everyone in that field. It is a derogatory term with origins in the idea of your enemies cutting off your head and literally shrinking it to an easily portable size…therefore people pay alot of money to gripe at someone they cannot stand. Of course many people NEED thier heads to be shrunken just a bit as they are so full of themselves that they have grown extremely large heads and must have a cart in which to transport them as the human neck was not designed to carry so much weight. In modern parlance we often refer to these people as ‘Barbie’ and ‘Ken’. These are, of course, allusions to the plastic and fake nature of a certain type of person that is a metaphorical match for the actual plastic dolls themselves.
Interestingly enough Ken is not anatomically representative of a true male and is a further metaphor for what extreme feminism has done to the Western world…but I digress.
I had an appointment with my shrink. I was really upset at the lack of males I was able to find in my immediate vicinity. There were HOURDES of creatures who RESEMBLED men all over the place but each time I went fishing I caught a ‘KEN!’ The whole situation was very frustrating to say the least! I told her;
“I am tired of asking for dates and chasing men! Every husband I ever had, I asked them to marry me, and I divourced them. Where are the men? I wear a dress but underneath there is ALWAYS a pair of pants!”
She laughed gently. (Now you have to understand that my shrink is five foot ten, weighs about 120 pounds, has huge plastic boobs and fake white Chiclet teeth! She is what was once called ‘the blond bombshell’) She said, “You are neglecting your inner Barbie.”
WELL! Some food for thought THERE!
“OK”, I am thinking to myself, “What does THIS mean?” While I am thinking she is smiling serenely. She lightly batted her transplanted eyelashes. Her permanent make-up was flawless. It came to me in a flash that she was a real life Barbie!
“Soooooo….my inner Barbie is SAD?” I asked her.
“Yes your poor inner Barbie has been very neglected.”
Well how could I tell her I was kicked out of a beauty pageant at the age of five for having asymetrical ears! Sheesh! It was not MY fault I was born with pointed ears! After that all my Barbies were hanging by the neck from my ceiling! I asked her,
“Soooooo…does this mean I have to get a boob job and Chiclet teeth?”
All of the sudden she looked HIGHLY offended! Something inside of me snapped and I laughed, “I know! I will BUY my inner Barbie a nose job and a mini-skirt like a hooker and I will buy her those ridiculous stilletto heels!”
By this time my shrink had a murderous look on her face and I realized I had just described her clothing. Somthing in me started to laugh at this point and all 250 pounds of me shook with it. I said,
“I am going to get plastic surgery and spend about 50,000 dollars trying to look like my poor neglected inner Barbie! Can you write me a disability letter saying that I have this condition so my insurance will pay for it?”
I have to find a new shrink.