Friday, March 04, 2011

Creepy Spills The Beans At Sunday Brunch

by James Jarvis
from Life With Creepy

  My roommate was feeling talkative (imagine that) at our weekly Sunday morning breakfast chat this morning. He finally spilled the beans about his psychiatric history. It all started with one of his favorite subjects (below in ranking of his talks with a dead movie star (Marilyn Monroe) and his forays into the movie industry): Vietnam.

    "I was a 1Y in the draft," he told me.

    "One Y?"

    "Psychiatric. I got a psychiatric deferrment. That's why I didn't go to Vietnam."

    "Why'd they give you that? Lotta guys were trying ta dodge the draft that way back then: wearing dresses into the shrink's office and running off to Oxford."

    "No, no, no, James. I had a long history by then. The doc looked at my record and stamped me 1Y."

    "Mentally incompetant?"

    "Something like that. I was having a lot of trouble with my neck back then."

    "Oh. So what's this long history of psyche problems about?"

    "Oh, it started back before junior high school. I just couldn't get anybody to listen to me before that, but finally my junior high school principal listened. He was a nice man. Like a father figure, you know?"


    "I tried to tell people in grade school that something was wrong, you know? I tried to tell them that I was going out of control. Out of control bad. Really bad. But no one would listen and I was getting scared I was going to lose all my control. Finally, my juniour high principal listened. So Mr. Millins got me in to see a shrink and I saw the shrink for five years until he moved away."

    "Then what happened?"

    "I started going to a chiropractor instead."

    "A chiropractor?"

    "Well, yeah. My shrink said that the problem must be in my neck. He said the impulses were getting jammed there, you know, stuck before they could get to my brain, so after my shrink moved away, I started seeing a chiropractor."

    "Oh, and that helps with your impulses?"


    "And that got you out of the draft, too."

    "Well, I went in there and explained to the army doctor that I couldn't wear a helmet because the pressure on my neck would stop all my impulses."

    "And THAT did it. I see. Makes sense. Well, don't worry about it, Jimbo. You didn't miss much."

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