Monday Blows

Since Vik has this issue with his mind, guaging that he is constantly of the belief that he is more hemsem than me, this is to define once and for all, when you oughta see a psychiatrist and when to see a psychologist.

Psychiatry - branch of medicine that deals with mental, emotional, or behavioral disorders

See the shrink when: You oughta be in Woodbridge aka IMH

Psychology -
the science of mind and behavior
the mental or behavioral characteristics of an individual or group
the study of mind and behavior in relation to a particular field of knowledge or activity

See the shrink when: You oughta be in Woodbridge aka IMH together with that whole gang you hang out with.

My brother is now sneaking around my computer and I only fear for the worse. See, me and my PC have this emotional bond. Whenever other hands touch her, she gets a tad bit sensitive. It's like sharing your wife with your drinking buddies. Not a good idea.

He uses mine cos his is password locked by dear mummy, who is exercising her parental control rights. So, the opportunity arises when I'm asleep like a corpse, out, in school, even for a 7 minute smoke break he can get down to the dirty dirty.

All the chap wants to do is use some MSN. Get a hold of some chicas, and probably when the time is right, get down to banging them. All 15 year olds think the same yaaar? But this fella is one step smarter. See, he does a thorough clean-up job before he leaves. This is cos, I save my MSN convos. This is essential for future blackmail of friends turned foes. So, he meticulously goes through the entire folder searching for the ones that match the chicks he has spoken to and sends it on to the recycle bin.

Problem with most sneaky people? They tend to get sloppy. Today he did. And boy oh boy was I amazed to see the way he's been chatting up people. He really has the talent la. Already he's a looker, now this talent. Finish. You're caught mofo. Next time, realize that I have 2 saved folders. One by my add-on app, and one regular one. Happy searching.

Tonight, I went to see one of those people who get into a trance and claim they are hosting God in their body during those few minutes. My mum has it in her mind that I'm blasting my brain about something and I won't tell her what. So, I went. And saw. It wasn't one of those violent, whip beating, cheroot smoking, nail biting incidents. A very quiet quiet affair. I got what I wanted out of it. And I'm glad. But, what I wanted to point out was something else.

There were two other boys at the house when we got there. 2 fucking cute 7 year olds. Twins. Looked EXACTLY a like. But by mannerisms, you could see that one of them has assumed the role of the elder brother. Ironically, it was the younger twin who had that role. And soon we realized why. See, these two kids stripped down to their undies to get blessed by holy paraphenelia: holy ash, flowers, lime and others. And the older one was so badly bruised it was as if someone had taken a sledge hammer to him. You could see the strangle bruises on his neck. Punch bruises on his back. Kick bruises on his leg. And on the other one, nothing.

That's when we kinda overheard that they had a drunken and violent dad. Someone wondered aloud, how come the kids got hit and not the wife. That query was answered by a "Cos she hits back!". Ah, the guy had found the perfect woman for him, yet his kids had found the most imperfect kinda parent they could have got. The abusive sort. It was sickening, yet realistic.



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