Forget Bob, what about Jack?

Enjoy some prime JACK MAEHOFFER:

My yenta psychiatrist charges me $250 per hour of shit – I’ll give you the highlights for free. First off, she’s every bit of 240lbs. And wears these open toed sandals.

jm4When I sit across the desk from her, she kicks her sandals off and these feet are literally under my chair. These things could stop the Flintstone car on a ski jump. Staring at these goddamn feet- she’s got the hair, the voice, wears like 3 scarve s- Netanyahu would say she’s too jewish.

Yenta Psychiatrist: Can we talk about intimacy?
Jack Maehoffer: -but I’m a married man.
YP: For now.
(silence)
YP: Since we upped the Lexapro dosage, any problem with getting an erection or maintaining one?
JM: Well I couldn’t get one now if that’s what you’re asking.

smoYP: How are you doing with smoking?
JM: cut way back. feeling better. More energy.
YP: You reek of cigarette smoke.
JM: Reeking? Sure you have a great sense of smell, but reeking?
YP: I’m going to write a script for Chantix.
JM: No you’re not. You’ve got me on 4 pills now. And that stuff gives me bad dreams, tried it before.
YP: Yeah, you dream that you can’t smoke … History of alcohol abuse in your family?
JM: Yes.
YP: Who specifically?
JM: All of them.
YP: All of them, what does that mean, who specifically?
JM: Well I’m 50% Irish – 50% Pollock. They’re all drunks.
YP: So are you aware that you’re high risk?
JM: By being Irish, yes.
YP: (laughing) I know Irish men who don’t drink.
JM: I know Jewish women who don’t nag.

YP: Is your father an alcoholic?
JM: Yes.booz2
YP: Was his father?
JM: Yes.
YP: Was your mother’s father?
JM: Hell yes.

(starts writing in her fucking notebook)

JM: Look, what are you writing about, there’s no liquor in the house anymore, no beer in the fridge.
YP: Is there vodka in the trunk of your car right now?
JM: to the best of my knowledge, no.
YP: Do you drink at work?
JM: No.
YP: I’ve heard differently. You’ve never had a drink during a workday?
JM: Different question.
YP: This is not a court of law.
JM: No shit?
YP: I am trying to help you. I need you to help me, help you.
JM: I appreciate that.
YP: So, Jack, let’s try again. Do you have an occasional drink during the workday?
JM: No.

YP: Do you have a gambling problem?
JM: No.
YP: Do you gamble on sports?
JM: No.
YP: Please, let’s be open. Do you gamble on football games yes or no?
JM: No.
YP: Do you, and I quote, “sit in front of the television on Sundays, drinking and talking on the phone with your friends about gambling, using terribly racist language in front of the children, then pass out on the couch around 8:00?”

JM: Now I can’t watch football?

– – –

Thank you, Jack, for not going gently into that good night.

28 thoughts on “Forget Bob, what about Jack?

  1. this needs to go on Kickstarter. Instant digital short needs to be funded. First cast member below.

    [you fucking nailed it w/ Miryam, thanks.]

  2. Jack, seeking out the mental help services of a big fat nagging Jewish mother and paying for it is no way to go through life. As I like helping a brother out, I googled Chicago Psychiatrists. The images were more of MIT class mug shots than a Culo Miercoles, but I did find something that might make your weekly visits more palpable.

    1. Full disclosure:

      Admin emailed me about chicago Bears website while I was waiting in the Yenta’s bullpen Tuesday. Windycitygridiron.com. FYI. Sent him remarks post “therapy” which were not for publication, but he asked and I said ok. Not a self-promoter, just vent. Who the fuck wants this public.

      wife picked doc for both of us. I had no leverage based on behavior. Plan is, each of us do an intro, then an hour a week individually. after 4 weeks we meet together. I met with 240lbs Yenta MD for 30 mins in August at my office and she started feeding me pills like the Mossad’s Col Tom Parker. None are compatible with alcohol according to her and FDA. I disagree. works fine.

      Go in to her office Tuesday, swear to fuck there is a tel aviv univ diploma on the mamal’s wall. I’d take a picture of it but would spend the next 4 years in court. But, I will take a picture of her feet. There are fucking rings on 3 toes. Guess is that she pried them off the building’s shitty HVAC. Hot as fuck in there.

      I know she fucked up HVAC and what her feet look like, because Doc kicked off her fucking sandals to get comfortable before she asked if the meds were working. And I use the term sandals liberally: those size 12’s are matted down to a third of a communion wafer.

      Now free, she shoved her Frodos under the desk, right in front of me; right where I was staring down to avoid eye contact. Then she wants to talk about how I’m not what the wife and kids drew up on the chalkboard as the perfect dad/husband.

      When I fucking pull my eyes away from her hooves, she drops the bomb that the wife found the Absolut in my car trunk, which I had dumped into Gatorade bottles, in order to make it through her cocksucking husband/ wife book club party which was scheduled at 3pm on the Sunday of Bears/Packers.

      I don’t want to talk about this anymore, I’m done. Spending $250/ hr to stare at those fucking Rex Grossman AT-AT Walkers, and getting bitched at by a Yeti in Yiddish to save my marriage is my personal hell. But I am going to make this broad second guess her career choice after these next three weeks. if you see a lady who looks like Joy Behar let herself go, mumbling the word “maehoffer” and lacing up Chuck Connors, give her space.

  3. That was excellent! I have been there with the Yenta psychotherapist. Mine was thin and looked like she drained the oil from her car in to her hair. Wanna have some fun, ask her to tell you about her and you’ll see she’s more fucked up than you could ever hope to be.

  4. voice mail 3:34

    Dr. ******** recommends that you should be evaluated and treated by another physician in order to achieve a positive patient outcome. The doctor has two referrals for you which accept your insurance carrier. She asked me to pass on her best wishes and kind regards.

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