So I went to see my buddy who checked himself into the nuthouse and he didn't look too good all red-eyed and stumbling around.
I said, "You look like shit. What are you on?"
"They've got me on an anti-depressant, a mood stabilizer, some anti-psychotic drug and the occasional ativan."
"They?" I said. "Fuck them, don't take it."
"No, man, I'm feeling better... Hey, TZ" he said pointing to a guy in his thirties, "don't try to shake hands with that guy.
He's some sort of clean freak."
Just then the nurse walked up carrying two hot fudge sundaes.
"One for you and one for your guest," she smiled.
"Oh, no thanks," I said.
"Why not?" she said extending it to me. "It's really good."
"No thanks," I repeated, "crazy might be catchy, and I don't want to catch crazy."
She laughed a little, but the other nurses glared at me.
"They don't like that word here," said the clean freak who had walked up to us.
"Thanks for the tip. My name is TZ," I said extending my hand.
He just stood staring at it.
"Oh, forgive me. Let me wipe the germs off my hand," I said as I reached my hand in front of my crotch to the back of my ass, dragged it back and re-extended it for the greeting.
The guy screamed, my buddy laughed and I was escorted out.