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    As a kid, I remember dreaming of being a basketball player, rich businessman, and owner of skyscraper buildings.  Little did I know that, as I hit my 30s, I would find myself traveling to the projects of East Los Angeles.....at night.......in 90 degree weather.......in a car with no air conditioning..... to meet a troubled kid and his family.  And during this meeting, the kid says to me, "Hey Ernest, is it true that all you crackers smell like wet dog and baloney?

    After working in the mental health field for over 8 years now, I have given myself many a diagnosis.  And maybe part of me likes to torture myself for some strange reason.  And I think Its been going on for years.

    For Example, my first career profession was as a correctional officer.  And while in that job, i have to admit that my favorite unit in the jail was the "bug" cell.  It was called that because the inmates appeared to be bugged out of their god dam minds.  You know you've seen everything when you see a 60 year old man.........naked......standing and facing the wall.......and singing the song "I'm Henry the VIII I am !!!!!!!!!"   Then all of sudden, during his performance......he pauses......in order to pee on the fall.........and then continue his song.......

    Then I change my whole life and move to California.  Only to end up getting a job working with adults who have schizophrenia.  Nothing like teaching a group/class about anger management, only to have one of your students grab his cock, stare at one your female coworkers, and inform the class that , "I have a hard-on again !!!!!"  How did I end up here?

What do ya think a that?