The Doctor Is In
Serious DiscussionDiscuss The Doctor Is In in the Discussions forums; For, now anyway. Come on in, I am now accepting callers for dream interpretion free of charge, counseling of sorts mystickal, psychical and psychological.
The Dead Guy has entered the ...
For, now anyway. Come on in, I am now accepting callers for dream interpretion free of charge, counseling of sorts mystickal, psychical and psychological.
The Dead Guy has entered the building he really is quite exquisite, indeed. With a parade of skeletons and a thousand zombi grenadiers. Love me, love me, just say that you love me, because, for now, the Doctor is in.
And don't stop makin' love to your woman until she is sassified.
Anyhow, the Doctor is in and he has an arsenal of books to help him out.
Go ahead, speak amongst yourselves in the waiting room about matter epistimological, theological and kakistocratic until the Dead Guy calls you in and you are escorted by a particularly fancy dead Russian soldier from two centuries ago to speak to the Doctor, which is me.
There's only three songs in me, boy, what'd'ya want from me?
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Why is the doctor here, you ask? and what the hell am I going on about, for gods' sakes?!!! Well, this thread is meant to be a step-by step guide through the part of my mind that guides my faith in a comical, bizarre sort of prose. If you have any comment, please post them and make sure to put the subject in parentheses so as to not interrupt the storyline. Unless, of course, you would like to play a designated role in the story, but I'm assuming you don't.
I'll post every once in a while...
Please, enjoy.
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You find yourself immersed in the culture of this glorious, luxurious, tenebrous, lavish and intriguingly complex waiting room outside the chambers guarded, by necessity, by many, many men cloaked only in mystery. And nearby, the confession stand where you get your living snacks in exchange for a piece of your soul which is shared by no one but the priest and the Lord God, in Heaven. You make yourself comfortable, settling nicely into your later years of life and patiently awaiting to see the Doctor.
You sassify your woman and make your way past Truth to speak with the confidant about those snacks you've been hearing so much about. Why the hell not, you have time.
Because at this point, the Doctor is Out.
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You scream aloud, and walking back to your seat with a bag of paint chips you start to cry. All the other people who are just barely alive stare at you and out of spite you throw the empty chairs at them, just to make sure they know you're real. Suddenly, you realize they aren't real, well, only half, and now you know you really need to see the Doctor, but the Doctor is out!
What can you do?! You have to get back to your kids and five wivbes by the end of the night but you know you MUST see the Doctor!!
Reality slips and the lavish waiting room turns from a sun-decked desert and evergreen valley to a broken down slum, a trah-can alley. And you wish Bob Dylan would just leave you alone! NAd for God's sake, can't you get e refund of your soul on the paint chips yer eatin'?!
Nope....
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What is the point of this thread?? I thought it was about dream interpretation or something.....umm yea....
*~*I*C*E*P*R*I*N*C*E*S*S*~*
We live to die and we'd die to live.
Drugs, Sex, rock-n-roll. Speed, weed, birth control. Life's a bitch, then you die, fuck the world let's get high. all you prep's who think your cool. fuck you all cause stoner's rule.
I'm not suffering from insanity I enjoy every minute of it.
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