Serious therapy time needed, dude!

The Texas flag thing and dancing kitty were a bit too much for me.  I’ve been in such a serious mood, most of the time, lately, that I didn’t really find the kitty so funny anymore.  The rotating stars at the bottom have been more a distraction than anything else.

The title of this entry is not about anyone but yours truly.  I sit here listening to Jack’s version of "Because He Lives", and I realize that MY presence in this body seems to be proof that we don’t function as an ideal Christian.  That blows, man, because I believe, too.

So……I’m thinking I really have to get my ass into counseling again.  I don’t feel comfortable telling Dalia about the ten within.  She’s been my counselor twice before, and I just don’t relish the idea of this revelation…..one-way ticket to the nuthouse, you know?

Whatever.  I still need to get back in to see her.  It’s too taxing on us that I’m NOT in therapy.  Mikey needs the help, too, but we’ll just have to cross that bridge as we get to it.  I think the bigger cry is coming from me….not Jack, not Betty….good ole Piers.  What a fucker that Piers is….oh wait, I’m talking about myself!!!!!

I was about to say join me for another Lunchcast, but it’s Saturday….no lunch on Saturday.  A bit of rest for the wicked.

We’ll see what happens.  I’m sure it may be tedious, but it can’t possibly be boring.  My life never is!!!!!

Yeah, I love everybody and all that good crap,

PdC