When All Else Fails

Predator Press

[LOBO]

“I told you to stop applying for psychiatrist jobs!” says Terri, scowling into my CareerBuilder account.

“It’s not just any psychiatrist job.” I explain. “It’s Director of Psychiatry. I would run, like, a fleet of psychiatrists. Those cats make like $250,000 a year.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“How hard could it be?” I shrug. “I carry around a clipboard, and make all the patients in my asylum smoke cannabis while listening to old Beatles records. Hell people will be trying to break in.”

“You’re not qualified!

“I get my second interview tomorrow.”

“Really?”


Comments

Alex L said…
I think I need a little psychiatric help, so whats that, a dime bag and abbey road then?
Stephanie Barr said…
Note to self: Don't let Lobo babysit the kids.

:)

I wouldn't let the lack of qualification sway you. I see unqualified "experts" all the time.
Lord Likely said…
I am sure that what you lack in official qualifications will be more than made up by your own continued mental instability, sir!
Stickman said…
You helped my mental state just by writing this post for me to read. You're hired!
Mom said…
So, is your wife saying that pot and Beatles isn't good therapy? What else is there? LOL
Shawn said…
I'm surely to be remanded to a psych ward soon. Hurry up and get that job so I can request yours.
I think I used to have that job. I don't really remember.
Anonymous said…
If you get the job I assume you will need an assistant? Let me know and I'll send you "my" resume.
LOBO said…
Alex: There's free booze too if you're willing to run a support group.

Sephanie B: Kids love me. And if they don't spot the Nyquil bottle, the 'blue milk' will have them out before the Spongebob credits roll.

Double 'L': Well I made the guy that thought he was crawling with bugs bunk with the guy that thought he was a spider, and put the obsessively germ-phobic guy in the room with the guy that likes to write in his own poo.

-Let’s just say I've already saved the asylum millions of dollars, and there’s a dumb assed intern that owes me fifty of them as well.

Stickman: You don't by chance have an irrational phobia of country fried steak, do you?

That dumb assed intern that owes me $50 wants to "let it ride."

Mom: That's what I would have thought, but these poor bastards just want to be rehabilitated and reintroduced to society.

Poor, crazy bastards. Every last one of them.

Shawn: There's already a waiting list.

-I have you penciled in behind Matthew McConaughey.

Jeff: You better remember quick -You're "Country Fried Steak" Guy!

(I'll cut you in for half)

canadianfermentation: Just show up with a labcoat and a clipboard. But not just some scubby 99 cent wooden clipboard ... pop the extra $2 and get one of those classy transparent plasic ones.

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