Friday, August 05, 2005

Oh, snap! 

Hidey ho, earthlings, it's your sicon of love, the baron of booze, the stealthy lover of all that is uncouth, me.
Larry.
That's me, Larry.
Hi.
It's me . . . Larry.

Yo.
So everything is peachy keen here in Utah, home of poligamy, 3.2 beer, and the easy ladies. Yeah, you're all missing out. You know you are. So I went to see my therapist today. I've got a beautiful block scheduled at 3:00 each Friday afternoon. We discussed the weather, music, and how confusing the female mind is to us man-apes, when Mr. Therapist hit me with the big one. "Larry, for the past three weeks we have talked about many topics and you are obviously a very smart and a creative individual, but unless we stop beating around the bush and work on the real issue here, I don't know if we should continue these sessions."
So what does that mean? The real issue? Well folks, he means George. My son. Who turned 12 on Monday. George. Dear lord, it is all so overwealming. If the decade of my twenties is the worst my life is gonna get, then I just might make it through. But, man, looking back now, the past ten years have not been the exciting, fun-filled time I was expecting.
Looking back now, if someone had told me what HAS transpired, and said "Be careful, Lar, there's a bad moon rising." I would have laughed in your face. Hmmmmmm . . . some of you did, if I recall correctly (Pat).
But, no, I was to stubborn, to headstrong. God dammit, I've been a fool!!!
Well, I guess it's okay as long as I don't make the same mistakes twice.
Has anybody out there besides me ever woken up and just realized , "Shit, my life is not what I want?" If so, I'm here for ya.
I gots to go get my laundry out of the dryer. Talk to y'all soon.
Comments:
I just re-read this, and YES what I'm saying is basically my own therapist is giving me the boot.
Accept me, world!
Take me as I am!
Blah . . .
 
Larryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

I'm glad to see your back to visiting all your fans. I wish I could visit Phoenix while you are in town in Oct. Would be fun. But dangerous. Keep in touch k. ~tina.
 
Either that, or you could adddress the issue....
 
hmm.....these commments have now taken a serious turn.... what i will say about my own time in therapy is that you get from it what you put in. it's taking a plunge and not being afraid to talk/cry (mostly cry) in front of someone you don't know... once you get past those protective barriers that all of us have, it can be very helpful.
 
For over two months My employer has had Morecheeba looped over & over &over &over again now. It is driving me fucking nuts. If someone told me ten years ago I would not be happy sitting here I would have mocked and scorned them too. But Christ this fucking euro pot trip hop trance bullshit is killing me. So from my booze stale pores to yours. Don't be afraid, to Laugh, Love & even cry a little during your therapist sessions. The one time I went to a therapist was in 1986 and I got out of it by falling into a narcoleptic sleep and subsequently drooling on his couch.
 
Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?