Paul Brandon wrote: >and there's always the Ballad of Sigmund Freud ....
By coincidence someone sent me this last week: The Complaint of the Wife of a Psychoanalyst I never get mad, I get hostile; I never feel sad, I'm depressed; If I sew or I knit, and enjoy it one bit, I'm not handy, I'm merely obsessed. I never regret, I feel guilty; And if I should vacuum the hall, Wash the woodwork and such, and not mind it too much, Am I tidy? Compulsive, that's all. If I can't choose a hat, I have conflicts, With ambivalent feelings toward net, I never get worried or nervous or hurried -- Anxiety, that's what I get. If I'm happy I must be euphoric; If I go the the Stork or the Ritz And have a good time making puns or a rhyme, I'm manic, or maybe a schiz. If I tell you you're right I'm submissive, Repressing aggressiveness, too! And when I disagree, I'm defensive, you see, And projecting my symptoms on you. I love you, but that's just transference, With Electra rearing her head; My breathing asthmatic is psychosomatic, A fear of exclaiming, "Drop dead!" I'm not lonely, I'm simply dependent; My dog has no fleas, just a tic -- So if I act hateful, never mind -- just be grateful, I'm not really a stinker -- I'm sick! http://hiw.kuleuven.be/phorum/read.php?f=5&i=8&t=8 Allen E. --- You are currently subscribed to tips as: [email protected] To unsubscribe send a blank email to [EMAIL PROTECTED]
