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Back in December, I had posted here that I wasn’t feeling great emotionally, and I wished I could just be alone with a plate of cookies for Christmas.

Last week, I had an appointment with my psychiatrist, and I was describing this feeling to him, telling him that I had been feeling very flat and a little depressed. I told him this was normal for me, but I knew I would get over it after a while.

Apparently it raises a red flag when you tell your psychiatrist you want to be alone with a plate of cookies, because he offered to increase my Wellbutrin until I was feeling better. I declined, telling him I wanted to wait it out and see if things improved within a few weeks.

He did make a joke about it – he asked, “were the cookies in the shape of Christmas trees?”


Regardless of what my p-doc thinks, I think this guy approves of my plan:


Last night, I dreamed I broke my dick.

In my dream I was, umm, pleasuring myself, when suddenly there was a loud “crack”, and most of my erect penis broke off into my hand. I was so startled that I dropped my dismembered member onto the floor, where it quickly shriveled to its normal flaccid size. I was understandably distraught. I looked at the still-aroused stump, expecting massive amounts of blood loss, but there was none. It had simply separated, like a lizard shedding its tail. By this time I had to pee, and I wasn’t sure how well that would work, so I put the wayward head on ice and prepared to go to the emergency room.

When I woke up, I had to check to make sure I was still intact (I was) so I could pee (I did). Then I thought of the song “Detachable Penis”.

I decided to post this here rather than on my Fakebook page. I think that was the right decision.


At the end of the high school year, there was always the ritual of signing other people’s yearbooks. Mostly these were pithy little notes like “it’s been awesome knowing you” and “hope you have a great life”. Here’s what I wish I had written in one particular yearbook:

Congratulations, you lumbering dolt, for escaping high school at the bottom of the class. You’ve been a dick to me for the past 12 years, so go fuck yourself. Sincerely, Fishrobber. P.S. I made your mother squeal last night.