No no child it wasn't me

by anna at 10:00 AM on December 21, 2006

It's very common for laymen to confuse scizophrenia with multiple personality disorder. Lesser known Davies brother of Kinks fame Dave Davies, in fact, once released an album called You're Never Alone with a Schizophrenic. But there is a difference. Schizos have wild mood swings too. At times they can function and even hold menial jobs and seem relatively lucid. At other times they descend into a quagmire of auditory hallucinations and deep-seated (if well-founded) paranoia. So depending on when one encounters the schizo, he can seem a very different person. But he is still the same person. Whereas the MPD sufferer has numerous facets he can show you. It's a temporal difference but a huge distinction.

MPD sufferers can blame their alter egos for all manner of heinous misdeeds whereas schizos have only themselves to blame.

And schizos are often seen muttering to themselves or even carrying on spirited debates with themselves. With the advent of those earphone wireless phones, one can make sport of trying to tell the crazy dangerous people from those who are just getting the grocery list from their shrew of a wife. Whereas communicaion betweeen multiple personalities is verboten. Half the time they don't even know about each other. Locally one guy who got charged with murder was aided by a therapist/attorney who uncovered one of his alter egos. To wit a demonic dog to pin the rap on. Too bad Son of Sam thought that one up years before. He is now some convict's bitch, bent over a dingy toilet.

Then again we all have our macabre little quirks. Myself I use my days off to get really clean. I wash those places we often miss in the harried morning rush to scrub just the parts that stink. Such as my eyelids, behind my ears, between my toes and my taint. You know, that little strip of skin that taint ass and taint your balls or the base of your pussy? It's filthy! Feel it. Now taste your finger. Ew!

I also floss for hours, use conditioner on my hair and take a toothbrush to my tongue and the roof of my mouth. It comes out stuck with bacteria-laden gunk clinging to it like barnacles to the hull of a ship.

Try it sometime. It's pretty gross. And it is the reason nobody wants to French-kiss you anymore. Assuming they every did. Like fisting, what a sickening concept that is: Oh my darling significant other, shove your nasty tongue in my mouth so I can suck it like a dick that's just been up somebody's butt. Ugh.

If you google search "fisting" you will be led to the harrowingly sleazy netherword of the net post haste. But you wouldn't expect that if you were just seeking a bargain on a spa treatment for a gift and you used keyword "facial." Trust me, you should. And you can get trapped in there with no way out except control/alt/delete or turning the damn thing off. Bah!