Snakes In The Love Box

I wrote a joke about my new Black Therapist (she’s not newly Black, just a new-to-me therapist) that ends with a comparison of her therapy style to Samuel Jackson circa “Snakes On The Plane.”

I’m working on my impersonation of my therapist impersonating Mr. Jackson in that campy, but strangely awesome movie, saying, “I’ve had it with these mofo snakes in your mofo vagina!”

(Pause for laughter).

So far it’s had a 50/50 success rate.  It worked better when I used the word “Hooch” instead of “Vagina,” but one guy commented that I might want to try “Love Box.”  I’d like to try it, but that word – “Love Box” – is so freaking awesome, I might feel like I stole it.

Srsly, though, my Black therapist is really stressing me out.  She wants me to start taking my “needs” seriously.  Apparently, these kinds of “needs” don’t involve wine or chocolate.   I need to start dating men who who respect my Love Box. (Oh, now…you knew it was coming).

Just for today, I can write new jokes.



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