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psychiatry, thunderstorms, god, etc.

I just come back from an appointment with some weirdo psychiatrist named Dr. Kutty. It was very, very boring and she didn't make any sense, but she's the first one so far (out of the four crackhead ones I've had one appointment with apiece - I would complain, but I can't be arsed) not to go on about me cutting. Quite ironic with her name an' all. But one good thing came out of it - I've finally got a social worker! His name's Jim and he's old and fat and bald and has the strangest moustache I have ever seen, but he seems alright really. I'm happy to have a social worker because I won't get funding for Rookery House without one. And if I don't get funding, I won't be able to go there and everything would suck.

So it wasn't that bad. And I didn't get jabitis (moodiest mood swings ever), but you wait for my LJ entries tomorrow. Unless something seriously good happens, I'm sure they won't be pretty. But then again, I might be alright. God knows and she doesn't tell me stuff often. Maybe she's in a mood with me or something. I think she's got PMT and taken it out on Birmingham in the form of a thunderstorm, so she ain't gonna bother with little ol' Becke who wants to know what's going on. Hmm, I wonder if God gets really bad PMT and that's why bad stuffs happen? Must explain this to important people (don't know who's important in this case though) who can work out when she's bleeding and start being v. saintly, giving offerings of chocolate, etc. to make her happy. You never know, the world might be a better place! Or if God turns out to be a man (which I very much doubt, because nothing interesting would ever happen then), maybe thunderstorms are when he farts and bad things happening are because he's too busy drinking beer, eating pie and wanking to sort them out. There would also be no shoe shops if God was a man, so we'd all walk around barefoot.

I think I'm the best person ever to talk to about religious theories. :P

Woo, thunder! Lightning! Rain! British weather! Thankyou, God, for your PMT and/or farting.

- b.k. x

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