| Santa went to a psychiatrist. "Doc," he said, "I`ve got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I get this weird feeling that there`s somebody under it. I get under the bed, to check it out, but then I think there`s somebody on top of it. I go back and forth, all night long, on top, under, on top, under... You gotta help me, Doc, I`m going crazy!" "Just put yourself in my hands for two years," said the shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I`ll cure your fears." "How much do you charge?" "A hundred dollars per visit." "I`ll sleep on it," said Santa. Six months later the doctor met Santa on the street. "Why didn`t you ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist. "For a hundred bucks a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars." "Is that so! How did he do that?" "He told me to cut the legs off the bed!" |
