Therapy Thursday

Dear Birdman: I’m so glad to finally catch up to you. You owe me eleven years of child and emotional support, and I plan on getting it. You told me that you loved me, and wanted me to have your baby, but then the next day you were nowhere to be seen. Where did you go? We were having such a nice weekend, eating mushrooms and drinking tequila, and enjoying what the city had to offer us. Nine months later I’m giving birth to your daughter, and saying goodbye to what was my future. I will never regain my misspent years, streetwalking for diaper money and stripping for food, but with the nest egg that you owe me, I think I’ll be okay. I figure it out at about $800$300 a month for 12 months, times 11 years is $455780$39600. You’ll notice that I didn’t add any interest onto that, and if you cough it up now, it’ll stay that way. We can work out a payment plan for the rest of the months until she’s 18. Thanks for putting up this blog, and making it easy to find you. I thought you were gone for good.


P.S. I got a problem with my hips clicking when I walk. Do you know anything about medical things?

Dear Vicky: I don’t know you, and I would never mix mushrooms and tequila together, so you obviously have the wrong guy. I also fixed up your math problem for you. You might want to check out these dudes, I think one of them might be the guy you’re looking for.

Read his necklace

He's younger than he looks

Maybe him?


As for your hip, I think you might want to get a new one. I don’t know where you live, but if it’s in the States you’ll want to try a few different avenues because of the cost of medical services there. Now I assume that because of your line of work, you don’t have any health insurance, so I’m going to give you a couple of options. First is to get hit by a car, and then sue the driver for pain and suffering. Make sure it’s a compact, higher end vehicle like a BMW or a little Mercedes. Don’t jump in front of a smartcar or any little piece of shit just because it’s small, or you will get fuck all. Next thing you need to do, is go for the media support. Make it look like they were gunning for your tiny, little child and you were struck while pushing your kid out of the way. That way the public gets behind you, and there will be book deals and all that kind of thing. Even if you lose the lawsuit, you’ll still have your medical stuff paid for and you’ll get a little something on the side as well.

The other option is less painful and much cheaper, but not nearly as exciting. Well, that is if it works it won’t be. First you need to go to a needle exchange or somewhere that will give you a clean syringeĀ and a big bunch of alcohol swabs. After that, you need to get a jug of the purest olive oil that you can buy and find a clean, quiet spot to do the procedure. You want it to be hidden, but within earshot of medical professionals, in case it goes awry. Then you want to open all of the swabs and have them at the ready. Fill the needle with oil and stuff all of the swabs into your mouth while breathing through your nose. Regulate between nose and mouth as you start injecting the oil into the joint where it hurts the most. It has to go very deep, depending on your body fat, so if it only goes in half an inch to the bone, move it around until it sinks all the way in. When the pain gets to much, bite down on the swabs and inhale deeply through the mouth until you can see again. Once you have a few syringes full into the joint, you should be good. Don’t try walking on it right away, you’ll need to rest for at least twenty minutes, and even then you’ll want to use some sort of walking stick to take a bit of the weight off. If you can trade a blowjob for a few T3s or some morphine, you’d be doing alright as well.

Let me know how you make out with that other Birdman and your hip problem. We sure do like to get feedback on our success stories.

Ah, come on, sister morphine, you better make up my bed,



Dear Vicky: I really don’t know what to say here. Good luck I guess? These questions keep getting crazier and crazier. Doesn’t anyone have a cheating spouse or something fun? Ah whatever, I’ll see you bitches in a week or so. Hello Dominican.

I’m going off the rails on a crazy train,

Mrs. B

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