[talking with two psychiatrists after being committed to a mental asylum] Sue me, I'm colorful! Doesn't mean I belong in here, making potholders with the wackos. Besides, what gives you the right to judge other people, anyway?
And driving, and shopping, and eating, and working. Somewhere, somehow, they all got chewed up and spit back out, and they don't taste like living anymore. Don't you see what it's like in this deranged Waring Blender of a world? Every day is an agonizing ordeal, like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt. [pauses] Ah, you never forget your senior prom... [suddenly louder] You think I'm sick? Well, the only disease I've got is modern life! A schnutbusting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of letdowns, put-downs, trickle-downs, shutouts, freeze-outs, sellouts, numbnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue, where even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure, like, say, if some nymphomaniac telephone operators with the muscle control of Rumanian mat-slappers agree to a little strip air hockey, it'll be over before it starts, 'cause some vowel-lacking, feta-reeking cab-jockey slams his Checker up your hatchback, and the cab is owned by some piñata spanker from a Santeria cult in Xoacalpa who starts shaking chicken bones at you and gives you a boil on your neck so big, all it needs is Michael Jordan's autograph to make it complete! And even with all this -- with ALL THIS -- I still drag my sorry butt off the Sealy every morning and stick my face in the reaping machine for one more day, knowing when it's time to flash the cosmic card key at those Pearly Gates, I won't be in the coffin anyway, 'cause some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, pancreas, and other assorted Good 'N' Plenty to that same Santeria cult! So does anybody really wonder why anybody is hanging onto sanity by the atoms on the tips of their fingernails while life dirty-dances on their digits?! And is it really any wonder that I seem DERANGED?!
