scarecrow: i need a brain!
tin man: i need a heart!
me: i need a stomach that stops me from ordering three delivery items, that knows it’s going to be satisfied by one delivery item
dorothy: again, he’s not with us
doctor: does this make you uncomfortable?
me: yes
doctor: and how about this?
me: yes
doctor: and what about this?
me: please stop kissing my mom
Breakfast: “Coffee, please.”
Lunch: “Just grilled chicken over a small salad.”
Dinner: “I’ll take a wheelbarrow full of lasagna and enough chocolate to kill a horse.”
therapist: so what’s troubling you?
me: my parents taught me to be so polite that now i have trouble taking up any emotional real estate
therapist: and how does that make you feel?
me: fine