And, of course, it would mean a lot to Robin.
I have never won anything in my life. So I don’t expect to win this contest. But I do find it flattering to be nominated in the Grande Conservative Blogress Diva contest on Gay Patriot.
Just in case, I am hard at work on my acceptance speech. Here’s a sneak preview: “I am so grateful for this honor. I’d like to thank my husband, Jon; oh, never mind, he’s wearing a T-Shirt that reads, “I never slept with that woman. . .Robin of Berkeley.”
Well then, I’d like to thank my closest friends; hmm. . ..forget about that. They don’t even know I’m a conservative. And they’d dump me in two seconds flat. My family, then; I’ll thank them: No, they also haven’t a clue.
See, Robin really needs this award to keep herself going, because she has to keep her real self hidden from everyone around her. Her friends and family and those whom she is supposed to trust would certainly reject her if they knew the truth about her, because they are so judgemental and evil and stuff. (I'm sure the psychological profession has a term for this condition, and maybe they'll tell it to Robin if she wins this award.)
Anyway, not only does Robin need this award, she also deserves if to make up for the hell that is her everyday life. Here's a sample from earlier this year:
I am in Whole Foods examining some (non-organic) strawberries. Out of nowhere, a woman charges at me like a mad bull. She launches into an impassioned and very scary tirade about nasty pesticides and poisoned farm workers. I feel lucky to get out of there in one piece (but without strawberries).
Because in Berkeley, health food devotes frequently murder shoppers in grocery stores when they get worked up about pesticides.
I spend fifty minutes staring at Obama -- well not Barack in the flesh, but his likeness on my young client's t-shirt. Fantasize about closing up shop and hanging up my shingle in Texas. But does anyone in those red states actually need a shrink?
Pity poor Robin, who was forced to stare at a likeness of Obama for 50 minutes while some young liberal jerk babbled on about ... something -- Robin obviously can't be expected to pay attention to his words when he was so inconsiderate as to wear that hateful t-shirt for his appointment. He probably did it on purpose just to annoy Robin -- and to send her the message that the President is out to get her. Too bad everyone in the red states is too sane to need somebody like Robin to fix their psyches.
Wednesday:As part of an evil progressive plot to ruin Robin's week, the slack jawed, hippie cashier failed to offer Robin a bag, and so Robin had to ask for one (because the alternate would have been to put her tube of holistic KY jelly in her purse). And asking meant a big victory for the forces of socialism everywhere! Of course, Robin got some of her own back by glaring, but the cashier did possibly snicker, and that is just so unacceptable that nobody would blame Robin for going back with a non-holistic gun and shooting up the store!
Head over to my local holistic pharmacy for some personal hygiene products. After handing over the cash to the cashier, she stares at me blankly. I look at her, she looks at me, I look at her, she looks at me...until finally I break the stalemate.
I utter the five most scandalous words in Berkeley: "May I have a bag?" What I actually want to say is, "Do you expect me to carry my intimate female products on my head like they do in the third world?!" -- but instead, I simply glare. Upon exiting the store, I am certain I hear snickering.
The highlight of my week! My sweetie and I hightail it to a magical, foreign land -- the suburbs! After driving thirty minutes, I know that we are heading in the right direction when the car in front of us displays the following bumper sticker: Liberalism is a Mental Disorder. I laugh uproariously while my leftist hubby scowls his disapproval.
It's a whole new world: No one is all up in my business, the streets aren't trashed, and I only see a handful of Obama bumper stickers.
But the pièce de résistance is when I buy shampoo at CVS and the cashier places the product in a bag without even asking. She does so with a warm smile rather than a contemptuous growl! I now know ecstasy!
And if Robin gets such a thrill from a CVS bag, just imagine her reaction to winning that award from the Gay Conservative Blog Guy. So, go forth and vote, if you feel like it. (The contest only runs until Dec. 31st and Robin already commands a substantial majority, but if you don't vote, then you can't complain about not being offered a bag in the holistic drug store.)
Let's get into the holiday spirit: Oh, Holy Shit.
Seriously lady, there is just too much material to work with when you blather. Shooting fish in a barrel is even less of a sport when it's crammed so full of (holy!) mackerel that they have no/zero/zip/nada room to move.
In my advancing years, it is particularly amusing to not back down from any old asshat on the street. But you make it just too fucking easy.
This woman is 20 pounds of crazy in a 5 pound bag.
I can all too easily picture her nightly routine, going round the house checking for the hidden cameras and microphones hidden there by her slathering liberal so-called "friends", and "family", and (ftw of teh crazee) her "leftist husband" just waiting to discover her seeeecreet so they can haul her away to the Obamacare version of 'The Fletcher Memorial Home For Incurable Tyrants and Kings (and Death Camp For Cuties). Run, Robin, Run!
I buy shampoo at CVS and the cashier places the product in a bag without even asking. She does so with a warm smile
and then offers the helpful advice: "put both of these on your head, that 'choking hazard' warning is just the eeevilll gubmint trying to brainwash children too young to know better"
Hokey Smokes, if she's really obsessing over the T-shirt of a youth in need of counseling for the entire session (& I'm not really advocating stalking here, but ...) it could be a public service to find out who she really is & report her to whatever licensing agency or professional association that might have some control over her.
Ironically, I'd start w/ the Alameda County Behavioral Health Care Services Dep't. (How's that for liberal euphemism?) because she sure sounds like a bitter employee. Or might she be a contractor, forced to take liberal clients at lesser rates?
Maybe the Better Business Bureau. Doesn't sound as if she's delivering much value.
Robin reminds me of the cartoon (Gahan Wilson?) where a patient is lying on a couch and says "I have a hard time dealing with my parents" and the shrink responds "Why don't you kill them?"
I have to agree with M. Bouffant, if this woman is a real practicing therapist and she treats her patients with this little respect, she needs to be out of work.
That ungrateful bitch needs to surrender her space in Berkely and the liberal husband and come up here to New Hampshire. I've got a non-subsidized, free market apartment in a part of the country that tries so hard to be non-subsidized and free market that the impoverished proudly call themselves "freedom loving" and the wealthy are known to happily play along.
Come on over Robin! I'll leave the furniture, dishes and even my Toyota all for you so I can have the pad in Berkely and the husband with half a brain.
I'll even bash some poor old lady over the head for bus ticket money (Ayn Rand would be proud) if you need me to.
On second thought, I'm sorry to all little old ladies, I would never bash anyone over the head and I feel dirty for saying that.
See what you wingnuts do? Robin?
I will though, tell you Robin what you are missing:
The public transportation here is so poor that in order to have a job or even get groceries you have to have a car.
The public water supply was only recently spiked with Flouride (about five years ago) because the populace was convinced flouridation was a communist plot. Teeth are a luxury around here.
The worker's comp payouts are among the lowest in the nation, not even registering compensation for facial injuries -- because the working classes have no time to fuss about looks anyway (remember teeth are a luxury).
The rate of alcoholics among the population is among the highest in the nation -- must be the love of conservatism driving everyone to drink eh?
I have learned by observing around here that the propensity to use the word "Free" in any term describing oneself increases inversely to your income growth.
You'd fit right in sweetheart.
Let me go to that utopia on earth I hear about called Berkely. Release me!
it could be a public service to find out who she really is & report her to whatever licensing agency or professional association that might have some control over her.
Your complaint is with the California Board of Behavioral Sciences, which licenses her. In licensing, the Board seeks to reassure those in need of this sort of counseling that the help they receive is competent.
My complaint and request that they contact Robin are already on file. In reply, I've been apprised that identifying yourself as a licensed psychotherapist and refusing to provide a license number is an infraction of the licensing requirement itself.
Assuming a) her name is Robin, b) she is practicing in Berkeley, and c) she is licensed, it's pretty easy to isolate her.
I haven't heard of anyone "laughing uproariously" since around the time of Nixon. All of her scenes have a bad cartoon quality. I smell something.
How do we know Robin isn't actually Bob of Lubbuck, no shrink, a liberal putting us on and making conservatives look bad? (Not that they need any help.)
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