Address: 123 Main Street #4, Somewheretown, USA 05906
Reason for applying to Beirkowicz Home for the Criminally Insane: I'm 'bout to lose my mind.
Care to elaborate: Ok, so, this guy I'm married to, we'll call him "Raul," is starting to drive me crazy. He's always made me a little nuts, like when he peels out of the driveway, or dances down the aisles of the grocery store, or farts right in my face. But now that I'm living with Raul I'm subjected to more than my sweet, innocent, little ol' self can tolerate...and I just might pop him one.
What exactly is "Raul" doing: Wow, this is a very specific application, um, he does this thing where he changes his mind. On everything: I don't like that guy, I do like that guy, let's invite him to dinner; I'd like a loofah, I'd never use one of those things; I hate that song, let's use that song for our first dance; I'll go with you to Carol's Halloween party, we're going to the Yankee game. It really is very confusing.
He also yells at random people he passes. But not words, like in a language someone on this planet would understand, it's more like screeching and bleating...you know, like what goats and farm animals do. It's loud, and the people he's harassing look at me as if to scold, "young lady, control your mentally-challenged brother."
I'd have to say, though, the one thing that puts me right over the edge and into Beirkowhatever territory, is the feet tickling. I have sensitive feet. You come near them and I'll scream like a gay man who just locked his baby in the car (Modern Family if you didn't recognize the reference...Wednesday nights...ABC...9pm, but I digress).
Cor...I mean Raul goes after my feet meat like a bear goes after hikers with beef jerky in their back pockets. For serious. And what do I do? I lose all control of myself. My muscles go wild in a flurry of kicking, punching, and flailing. Knock on wood laminate I haven't kicked out any teeth, his or my own.
This is why I am applying to the Beerenhoffer Home. To save us both...from myself.