I once had a friend who was a shrink or a quack or whatever we call people who have a certificate on the wall saying they’re qualified to sit and listen to strangers moan and groan about petty bullshit all day. I made a modest effort to understand what he did, how he spent his days, and it’s just as ghastly as it sounds. This poor sap, who was quite the charmer in his early years, went to school and took on debt and struggled to to get degrees, all to wind up spending hours every day, five days a week, hundreds of days a year, for forty years – forty fuckin’ years! – listening to whiny-ass goofballs drone on about their precious little feelies. Can you imagine waking up every morning to another day of that? I want a double whiskey just from writing about it, imagine having to live it.