The Lesbian Psychologist

One of my lesbian friends, Leslie, is a psychologist. Not believing in the healing power of faith, she thought I was some sort of mind control flim-flam artist trying to seduce her. Now, she demonstrates a great amount of proficiency at her art; making children behave normally, but she wanted to test me, so we started hanging out. We were standing in line at the grocery store when a child began to yell at his mother. The child wanted something, I don’t remember precisely what, but this child of 4 or 5 years stood up on top of the counter and began yelling at his mother. “I hate you!” he said.

I looked at the woman, “Spank the child,” I had already lost my patience as she had obviously spoiled the child.

“Tell the child that he his hurting your feelings.” My psychologist friend advised the woman and then gave me a superior look. Leslie is really good at that.

The woman turned quickly as if to say something harsh to us but then reconsidered after she had a better look at us. She looked confused. “Go on…” I encouraged her (I was smiling and everything) but she took my friend’s advise instead.

She pleaded with her son, “You are hurting my feelings, and these nice men are waiting for you to get down, now come on and let’s go home.”

The child pointed at his mother and was about to yell “NO” at the top of it’s lungs when, I reached into his forehead and yanked out his soul.

“See it’s all spotted.” I showed the mother and my friend the soul. I waved it about a bit, held it to the light. They balked at me with open eyes as the child’s body fell limp. It was mostly white, but it was already dirty, it almost looked like a hanky with some little black bugs on it.

“Put it back… Please?” The mother said helplessly. She and Leslie were shocked.

“Look, you can just pick these things out once a week or spank the child to shake them loose and the kid will be fine.”

I placed the soul onto the checkout counter and flattened it out by pounding it with my fist. I squeezed a few of the spots and returned the soul, which was quick to snap back into place. “Ah, youth.” I commented.

Watching me very carefully, the child got down from the counter and wrapped itself around his mother’s leg. “I am ready to go home now please.” They left the store quickly.

I continued smiling, the checkout girl started to cry but was able to quickly ring up our things. The ride home was quiet. “Do you want to try?” I asked the psychologist.

She could not bring herself to answer.

“You are a very good psychologist, but you have no faith.”

More Psycho Sermons

Saint Garion

Bel Garion, who also goes by the name Saint Garion started writing columns in our early years and continued to 2006. He often refers to "The Lord" and "Buddah" which are the names of his dogs which speak to him on a regular basis.

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