Tales of nonsense and items of little interest, sometimes true, always poorly thought through. Less sophisticated than most newspapers and magazines.

Saturday, March 31, 2007

About My Mentor


For the past three months I have been under the tutelage of a remarkable human being. I have made many a recent reference to how my life has changed over these past 90 days and I have decided that it is time to give credit where credit is due. My transformation from work shy ne’er-do-well to the hardworking, industrious model of mediocrity that you know and lust after is down to the wisdom and teachings of this man.

Dr. Professor Sherman Schmuelly Phb, ASDA, BP, ELO, SFA



We met completely by chance, we happened to be standing next to one another in the mall food court, both pretending not to watch the Hot Dog on a Stick girl mashing lemons in a bucket. After what seemed to be only a short while, the police were called and being quick witted, the Dr. Professor flashed a filthy freemason’s apron and told them that I was his patient and that we were simply doing an experiment in social integration. The policemen let us leave with some strongly worded advice and a caution to stay well clear of the Hot Dog on a Stick concession for the rest of the day.

In gratitude, I offered to buy the Dr. Professor lunch. He eagerly accepted and we talked at length over our Happy Meals. I was impressed with his outlook on life and his claims that most weaknesses can be overcome by hypnosis and the use of certain hallucinogenic plants imported from South America. He claimed that one of the lads who picked up the shit after the donkeys in Griffith Park was a part time shaman and had the hook up for the plants, which were fairly cheap compared to the price of oranges these days. As for the hypnosis, he was an expert and would be glad to treat me for what he called ‘commonly noticed abnormalities and retardation’ three times a week for the next 90 days.

I know, some of you are skeptical about hypnosis, I was too. Many of you think that hypnotist’s just make you act like a chicken or pretend you farted by embedding in your subconscious certain “trigger words”. Some of you may also think that hypnotists perform inappropriate acts on their subjects while they are under. I can assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. I have no desire whatsoever to behave like a chicken and apart from that time I woke up with my undies on back to front, I have no reason to believe anything untoward happened. “You have to remember,” the Dr. Professor told me, “the hallucinations can be so strong they almost seem real, so anything that you think may have happened actually didn’t.” In fact, I seem to remember signing something to that effect.....or did I? Now I'm getting confused again. Did any of this happen or is it all just one big hallucination? No, stop it! It did happen, I distinctly remember the Hot Dog on a Stick girl working up a sweat, jiggling about all over the place, talk about being hypnotised, fuckin' obsessed more like. The things I would do if she hadn't gotten that restraining order.....

Where was I? Oh yeah, every day in every way I'm getting better and better.

So, after an intensive course of positive thinking and, some may say, brainwashing, I have emerged a better person. I have learned many things about myself. I have discovered the real me. I can be something if I avoid making poor choices. I can be all that I can be just by avoiding jail time. If I want something I can reach out and grab it with both hands, pick up the ball and run with it. I have learned that avocados are a great source of fear for me and I have almost conquered that fear. The colour green makes my balls itch uncontrollably. The song ‘Babalu’ when sung by Desi Arnaz seems to arouse some strange kind of animal instinct in me. I cannot put my finger on it but the urge to frolic naked in the yard is irresistible. Now that I know these things about myself, I can use them to live a better life. It’s simple, avoid avocados, avoid green things and at all costs, avoid Desi Arnaz.

The Dr. Professor is available for private consultation but he asks me to inform you that due to a misunderstanding between his Swiss bank and the IRS, he can only accept cash at this time. You can contact him at:


THE HOLLYWOOD SOUP KITCHEN & MISSION
178282 HOLLYWOOD BLVD
HOLLYWOOD
AMERICA

18 comments:

The Mistress said...

South America? Aren't there peyote gardens in the US? Think globally, act locally.

Babalu aye, Babalu aye!

Eddie Waring said...

Babalu aye, Babalu aye!

You just want to see me naked...

The Mistress said...

Whilst scratching your balls.

FirstNations said...

AFGANISTAN
BANANASTAN

AFGANISTAN
BANANASTAN

AFGANISTAN
BANANASTAN

Anonymous said...

A truely intriguing story Mr W - and if I may say it was not a moment to soon for you. As you say -you are a better man for it - but I do worry about the one size fits all approach of the modern hypnotists - in the olden days .... blah blah

** drones on for hours **

ellie said...

*Standing just outside Eddie's house wearing an emerald green jumper, juggling three avacados singing :

Jungle drums were madly beating,
In the glare of eerie lights;
While the natives kept repeating
Ancient jungle rites.
All at once the dusky warriors began to
Raise their arms to skies above
And a native then stepped forward to chant to his Voodoo Godess of love.
Ah!
Great Babalu!
I'm so lost and forsaken.
Ah, great Babalu!
Bring back the love you've taken.
You can restore all the dreams that once were mine
If only you'll use some mystic sign.
Ah! Great Babalu!
Bring her back to me.
Ah!

Kav said...

Very generous of you to share this info, but I am fucking terrified of being hypnotised. I have too much evil shit in my past that I'd be afraid I'd confess to.

The Mistress said...

Ellie: There's strength in numbers. Would you consider a duet with me?

ellie said...

Mj: It's a deal, you can wear the green elf shorts and hit the high notes.

D. C. Warmington said...

First Nations: It's "Afghanistan Bananastand".

For those who remain baffled: this was the phrase implanted by Marvo the hypnotist in the bald head of a little man who worked with the safety deposit-boxes at a Manhattan bank. He was instructed to obey whomsoever uttered the phrase.

For more, see here.

Gorilla Bananas said...

I always have a good snooze when anyone tries to hypnotise me. I don't wake up unless someone punches me on the head. No hypnotist has got anywhere with me.

Eddie Waring said...

1st Nations - Mr. Warmington appears to have answered my question. I was confused for a while. You are too smart for me missus.

Mutley - Have you read "Hypnotism - The Early Years" by Quentin Q. Strange? A very comprehensive history of the art.

Ellie (& MJ)- You know you could just ask....

D.C.W - Thank you for the clarification. I am baffled no more.

GB - It is a foolish man who chooses to punch the head of a sleeping gorilla.

Anonymous said...

Thank you once more Mr Waring for your recommendation if you look on page 981 of the book,annex 7,you will see I am cited in a foot note as the first person ever to eat their own tongue whilst hypnotised!

FirstNations said...

d.c. warmington: bananastan 'D'!!! well there ya go, dammit; i was wondering why i was still pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of this fricken' bank.

FirstNations said...

...i suppose it's too late to substitute the phrase 'babalu', huh.

D. C. Warmington said...

First Nations & All:

Zero Mostel's performance in The Hot Rock is a dream. He plays a quack lawyer ... the plot is too complicated for a brief summary ... but there is a scene set in a disused warehouse, in which the supposed bad guys demand valuable information from him and threaten to throw his son down the liftshaft if he doesn't tell. He doesn't. Son: "Don't expect me for any more Sunday lunches, Dad."

Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

Where'd my comment go? I commented, I know I did!

Eddie Waring said...

Blogger has eaten several comments and one or two posts of mine over the past few days. It sucks....