If you ever want a change of pace for hard-earned vacation time, try a week at your local psych ward! It's so refreshing.

I suffer from what is known as schizoaffective disorder (http://www.myselfunfettered.net/blog/?p=34). Come to think of it, I should have known I was having a relapse when I wrote that post. Actually, I should have known about a month before then, but as is typical with people like me, I didn't.

I won't bore you all with the clinical details of what happens inside a place like that; most of it is confidential anyway, and I'll save the rest for my actual blog. I have pondered, however, the usual excuse one has for such an absence; vacation time (which I don't actually have since I'm unemployed). As such, I came up with some handy travel agency mottoes to lure people into spending time at the beloved GaGa Hilton:

"It's not called the FUNNY Farm for nothing!"

"If you were psychotic, you'd be home by now!"

"Indulge your inner children!"

"The voices in your head may be telling you something (besides warning you about clowns)!"

"Would you swallow the red pill, or the blue pill? (Hint: you'll take the pills you're given!)"

"Do you have a little bit of the captain in you? (or perhaps Joan of Arc? Abraham Lincoln? An Egyptian princess?)"

"Enjoy life without restraint! (well, with restraints, to be perfectly honest)"

I hope you all enjoyed your vacations as much as I did mine.

Seriously. I'm so tired of men and women coming to me to complain about each other. I know, I know. Gay guys are supposed to really support our sisters. We're supposed to follow, slavishly, after our hetero brothers. Know what? You guys don't have a clue.

(Well, some of you)

Want to know how to start getting along? Ask Uncle Loquacious.

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