Dr. Phil
Recently I've discovered Dr. Phil.
You see, I have a tendency to get real involved in work and there are times when I finish up and realize that I haven't had a lot of contact with the real world. Being obsessed is no way to go through life. Therefore, I try and distract myself a little.
So while writing reports now, I flip on the television and listen to Dr. Phil as I type. I only get to listen in maybe once or twice a week, but that's usually enough.
There are some seriously messed up people in the world.
Thank God that Dr. Phil knows everything.
But seriously, last week there was a guy on there who had no idea that his constant belittling and sometimes physical abuse of his ten-year-old son could have a negative impact.
"Sometimes I beat him up to toughen him up," the redneck said.
Seriously? Beat a kid to toughen him up?
This week I caught an episode about a young girl who had an eating disorder. She was once a pretty girl but now she weights about 75 pounds. She eats and eats and eats and throws it all up.
Anorexia has always been amazing to me. I can rule it completely out as being my cause of death. I beat the hell out of that disease.
Yet it certainly wasn't funny.
The pretty girl who looked a lot like death was screaming and crying:
"I hate myself! Don't you get that? I want a normal life!"
The other members of her family and Dr. Phil were not real kind to her. I guess it was a tough love sort of thing, but they were simply telling her that she needs to eat a sandwich, more or less.
Dr. Phil, of course, within an hour, makes the world a lot better. He speaks in cliches of wisdom and knowledge and the perfect edits get us to the end.
And I may need to find something else to do because the more you listen in the more you realize that the seeds of self-destruction fill all of our pockets and one way or another we are going to plant those seeds and just watch them grow, no matter who is screaming at us to stop.
My Grandfather used to watch game shows.
He'd spend the hour of the Price is Right rooting against the contestants. I used to think it was a real funny way to watch it. If one of the contestants would get it wrong he'd say:
"Good for you, you dumb bastard."
As crazy as it sounds there are times when I watch Dr. Phil when I root against the people who are fighting each other and themselves.
The guy who was beating his kid?
I'd love to see him get well, but I'd rather see him get punished.
The anorexic?
Of course I'd like to see her get well, but what does watching her kill herself slowly do for me?
When I asked Grandpa all those years ago why he rooted against the contestants he summed it all up:
"I got my own problems. Who cares if they get to go on a trip somewhere."
You see, I have a tendency to get real involved in work and there are times when I finish up and realize that I haven't had a lot of contact with the real world. Being obsessed is no way to go through life. Therefore, I try and distract myself a little.
So while writing reports now, I flip on the television and listen to Dr. Phil as I type. I only get to listen in maybe once or twice a week, but that's usually enough.
There are some seriously messed up people in the world.
Thank God that Dr. Phil knows everything.
But seriously, last week there was a guy on there who had no idea that his constant belittling and sometimes physical abuse of his ten-year-old son could have a negative impact.
"Sometimes I beat him up to toughen him up," the redneck said.
Seriously? Beat a kid to toughen him up?
This week I caught an episode about a young girl who had an eating disorder. She was once a pretty girl but now she weights about 75 pounds. She eats and eats and eats and throws it all up.
Anorexia has always been amazing to me. I can rule it completely out as being my cause of death. I beat the hell out of that disease.
Yet it certainly wasn't funny.
The pretty girl who looked a lot like death was screaming and crying:
"I hate myself! Don't you get that? I want a normal life!"
The other members of her family and Dr. Phil were not real kind to her. I guess it was a tough love sort of thing, but they were simply telling her that she needs to eat a sandwich, more or less.
Dr. Phil, of course, within an hour, makes the world a lot better. He speaks in cliches of wisdom and knowledge and the perfect edits get us to the end.
And I may need to find something else to do because the more you listen in the more you realize that the seeds of self-destruction fill all of our pockets and one way or another we are going to plant those seeds and just watch them grow, no matter who is screaming at us to stop.
My Grandfather used to watch game shows.
He'd spend the hour of the Price is Right rooting against the contestants. I used to think it was a real funny way to watch it. If one of the contestants would get it wrong he'd say:
"Good for you, you dumb bastard."
As crazy as it sounds there are times when I watch Dr. Phil when I root against the people who are fighting each other and themselves.
The guy who was beating his kid?
I'd love to see him get well, but I'd rather see him get punished.
The anorexic?
Of course I'd like to see her get well, but what does watching her kill herself slowly do for me?
When I asked Grandpa all those years ago why he rooted against the contestants he summed it all up:
"I got my own problems. Who cares if they get to go on a trip somewhere."
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