EPISODE #2: An illicitly stolen transcript of my intensive outpatient Zoom soiree run by the Metatarsal Psychiatric Institute in the charming city of Hoboken, NJ.

Me/Looney #5: (wafting around the padded room like a bad modern dancer) “I am Hubble. I float around in space. Surrounded by nothingness. I am doomed. Doomed. Doomed.”
Social worker: “You are NOT the Hubble telescope. Get over it.”
Me/Looney #5: I am Hubble.  Cast into the wilderness of hell. Paralyzed because my computer broke.”
Looney #1: “Don’t be an idiot. The Hubble is just a giant, ridiculously expensive space toy that spies on us. And shoots microchips into our brains so we reveal our social security numbers. And forces us to get vaccinated with apple juice.”
Looney #2: “If I were you, Looney #5, and thank God I’m not, I’d crawl into bed and stay there until the earth is hit by a meteor. I think that’s scheduled for a week from Thursday.”
Looney #3: “That’s stupid, Looney #2. You should be an in-patient, you know that?”
Social worker: “Hey, you losers. We’re not here to judge our fellow nut cases, but to empathize, understand, and support.”
Looney #4: “I’m not supporting anyone. I’m going through a ridiculously expensive divorce and I’m already supporting seven lawyers. All crooks.”
Looney #1: “I think Looney #5 is very empathic, identifying with Hubble’s possible pending demise. Her mommy should give her an extra cookie for snack. And maybe a few extra happy pills.”

Brief Interlude: A Mental Health Joke

A man starts his new job at an insane asylum. He’s given his orientation and, at the very end, is asked if he has any questions. “Yes, how do we know if a patient is ready to leave the asylum?” “Well,” the director says. “We just ask them a simple question and, based on their response, determine if they need to stay longer.”

The director then calls up three patients for a demonstration. He asks the first one, “what’s 6 times 6?” The patient is shaking and nervously says, “1000?” The director says, “give him six more months,” and turns to the next patient. This patient jumps up and down and screams, “February!” “Oh god no!” says the director. “Another year!”

Finally, he turns to the third patient who looks at him calmly and says, “well, the answer is obviously 36.” “Yes!” exclaims the director. “How did you know that?!” “Easy, I just divided 1000 by February.”

Laughter, Animals & Telepathy

EPISODE #3: A brief intro by the aforementioned Chris Cuomo: “In partnership with Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Johns Hopkins, and the Mayo Clinic, we have released the following clinical tête-à-tête with a patient recently diagnosed with Looney Tunes Personality Disorder (LTPD). We refer to her as Madame Agata ZeuBlouze. National father figure and George Clooney look-alike Armando Fauci-Bulles-Drôles facilitates.” {Note: Dr. F-B-D engages in dark humor when being asked stupid questions about fake COVID treatments.}

Agata (really me): “Yesterday, as I watched the ducks go poopy on my sidewalk, I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to quack. I don’t know what got into me. Maybe Satan? But quack I did. The ducks immediately stopped pulling up my grass, turned around, stared into my soul, and returned my quack.

“I quacked again, and soon a symphonic call-and-response of human-to-duck quacking made even Skippy the Squirrel sit up and take notice. I knew the ducks and I were connected on a deep spirit level because I had an intense urge to chew on the grass beneath my shoes.”

FBD: “Hmmm…a possible case of mallardomania, a personality disorder related to excessive quacking. Please go on.”

Agata (really me):” Fluffypuss and Peekaboo have telepathically revealed themselves to me. They follow me with their eyes wherever I go. Watch my every move. And then they accuse me with their thoughts. ‘You are a bad mother’. ‘You are holding us back from pursuing our dreams. ‘ ‘You never take us to the ballet’.

At night they shuffle around outside the bedroom door, breathing heavily, and whispering, ‘Your cooking stinks’. ’Your belly rubs suck’. ‘We hate that flannel nightgown you wear. You look like an old lady’.”

FBD: “I’m sure it’s your deeply warped imagination, Madame.”

Agata (really me): “You great big phony quack! You should hear what they say about you!!”