The Dr. Is In

in Poetry

Dr. Wes

Rocky Mountain High

Well! Good news, the med train's moving again and this time we're riding first class. This new stuff is great. I can't stop telling people everywhere I go about ***** (brand name) pills. Hint: if it were Prozac, it wouldn't work for me. If it were Valium, it wouldn't work for me. This is not your Grandmother's pill. This pill works for me!

No, it's not Viagra.

Not that it can't work for anyone else. Just after two weeks of running around telling everyone about my wonderful new tablets, I found that two of my face-to-face friends were also taking them. We are pill buddies! We started talking about forming a *****-User's Society, where we could congregate without being transgregated by Non-*****-Users.

For isn't transgregation the greatest evil that humans are capable of? For doesn't it say in Barnabas 6: 6: 6: "O Lord forgive us our trespasses, but forgive us not our transgregations (if any) for if we are so totally lame, we deserveth no breaks?"

Yes, we don't need no transgregators. We don't need no transgregators today. I mean if you aren't In you're Out, get used to it and stay there, right?

That was Irony #11, combined with Obfuscation #15. I'm actually compiling a little list of humor techniques. In reality transgregating is NOT wrong, hahaha, I only said that it is wrong in order to be "satirical" (#11b). I used Obfuscation (#15) partly because it's a hoot and partly because if I told you what I was REALLY talking about some of you might have been bummed out, and we can't have that in a humor column. (Hint: And Denver is the Capitol of what?)

Speaking of bummers, how about those social workers who don't know the difference between anxiety and fear? Don't they just burn you up?

I'm sure you've all had this happen to you: you've gotten off the streets, into low-income housing. You've gotten food stamps. You've noticed that, due to an inability to concentrate on anything but the derangement of your own twisted mind for more than an hour at a time, your rent is due. And you don't have it.

So you apply for uh, um, <welfare> shame on you, so they assign you to a social worker. And you spend the first fifteen minutes with her/him convincing your new social worker that you are NOT there due to being psychotic, you have a good solid grip on reality, really...

And THEN you say to the social worker, who has a degree in this sort of thing, and is paid to use it, that you think maybe your problem is in part an anxiety disorder. And after you say that she/he says "Are you feeling anxious now" and you say "Yes" and she/he says "What is it you are afraid of?"

AAAAARRRRGGGHH!!!! Don't you just hate it when they do that? Well I do, & do you want to know what I want to say when I hear that question? Well, I'll tell you what I want to say!

I want to say: "It's anxiety dammit! I'm not afraid of anything! You should see me drive! You should be sitting in the passenger seat up front! I'd be willing to pay the laundry bill just to have the fun of watching the look on your face as we rocket down Queen Anne Ave (20% grade, 25MPH limit) at 70-100 miles per hour and me saying what YOU are NOW experiencing is fear, this is NOT what I am experiencing when I talk about anxiety / know the difference why don't you it's your job look it up in a dictionary you ignorant &*^$#@*!" and then I would just barely come to a controlled stop at the busy intersection at the bottom of the hill and peel the dampened/soiled social worker out of the car, hose the seat down, etc.

But I just want to do that. I don't do it because I am not psychotic.*

If you enjoyed that, thank #9 and #2.

Now let's try to use "Juxtaposition in Concept" #4b. We have discussed <John Denver song title> and <people who are paid to know better>. We've backed ourselves into a corner this time, Cindy, haven't we? Guess we'll have to dance our way out of here...

Juxtaposition in Concept #4b Or, Opus 4b, I'd Rather Not Have to Say So

"I'd rather not have to say so...

BUT it's all about what we should know, y'know?"
Said the Grasshopper to the Ant.
"It takes a teacher able to show! Not tell! To show!
But don't take my word for it! Ant!"
Said the Grasshopper, closing a stupid book.

Y'know? Education isn't all talk... (Think about it. Sorry for the lousy rhyme.)

* Important: No social workers were harmed during the conception or execution of this column. Any resemblances between described social workers and actual social workers, living or dead, are purely coincidental and unintended.

© Dr. Wes Browning:

2129 Second Ave., Seattle, WA 98121 (206) 441-3247

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