::: Star Weekend Magazine :::

Jokes

"Eh… What's up, Doc?"

You are a chicken
A man runs to the doctor and says, "Doctor, you've got to help me. My wife thinks she's a chicken!"
The doctor asks, "How long has she had this condition?"
"Two years," says the man.
"Then why did it take you so long to come and see me?" asked the shrink.
The man shrugs his shoulders and replies, "We needed the eggs."

Scared sleeping
Shakey went to a psychiatrist. "Doc," he said, "I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think there's somebody under it. I get under the bed, I think there's somebody on top of it. Top, under, top, under. "you gotta help me, I'm going crazy!"
"Just put yourself in my hands for two years," said the shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I'll cure your fears."
"How much do you charge?"
"A hundred dollars per visit."
"I'll sleep on it," said Shakey.
Six months later the doctor met Shakey on the street. "Why didn't you ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist.
"For a hundred buck's a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars."
"Is that so! How?"
"He told me to cut the legs off the bed!"

Ugly person illness
A very homely person made an appointment with a psychiatrist. The homely person walked into the doctor's office and said, "Doctor, I'm so depressed and lonely. I don't have any friends, no one will come near me, and everybody laughs at me. Can you help me accept my ugliness?"
"I'm sure I can." the psychiatrist replied. "Just go over and lie face down on that couch."

Interviewing crazy
A man who had been in a mental home for some years finally seemed to have improved to the point where it was thought he might be released.
The head of the institution, in a fit of commendable caution, decided, however, to interview him first.
"Tell me," said he, "if we release you, as we are considering doing, what do you intend to do with your life?'
The inmate said, "It would be wonderful to get back to real life and if I do, I will certainly refrain from making my former mistake. I was a nuclear physicist, you know, and it was the stress of my work in weapons research that helped put me here. If I am released, I shall confine myself to work in pure theory, where I trust the situation will be less difficult and stressful."
"Marvellous," said the head of the institution.
"Or else," ruminated the inmate. "I might teach. There is something to be said for spending one's life in bringing up a new generation of scientists."
"Absolutely," said the head.
"Then again, I might write. There is considerable need for books on science for the general public. Or I might even write a novel based on my experiences in this fine institution."
"An interesting possibility," said the head.
"And finally, if none of these things appeals to me, I can always continue to be a tea kettle."