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Thread: Obsession
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12-17-07, 06:32 PM #1
Obsession
A middle-aged man, obsessed with women's breasts, asked a psychologist for help.
"Let's begin with word association," said the doctor. "I'll say a word and you say the first thing that pops into your mind."
"Okay," said the man.
Psychologist: "Melons."
Man: "Breasts."
Psychologist: "Apples."
Man: "Breasts."
Psychologist: "Oranges."
Man: "Breasts."
This was a deep problem, thought the psychologist, but he continued.
"Windshield wipers."
"Breasts."
"Whoa!" said the psychologist. "Melons, sure. Apples and oranges, maybe. But windshield wipers? What's the connection there?" he asked.
"Easy, doc," said the man. "There's one on the left and one on the right!"
500 fights, that's the number I figured when I was a kid. 500 street fights and you could consider yourself a legitimate tough guy. You need them for experience. To develop leather skin. So I got started. Of course along the way you stop thinking about being tough and all that. It stops being the point. You get past the silliness of it all. But then, after, you realize that's what you are.
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