An insight into madness from my favourite mentalist
Once upon a time I was mad. This was mostly an excellent time for me because I got to do anything I pleased. I smoked where I wanted and any nurses that complained would discover that I, Skip of the Lick am a fucking good shot with a fire hose. Water and laughter would then commence, accompanied by screams and more chuckling.
I would chat with Mental Health workers about the insanity dancing unhindered through the corridors of my mind and they would get cross with me. I would then talk about things with them using my sock puppet King Norbort. Our chats went like this.
Mental Health Worker - Skip you're unwell
Skip - I'm fucking mad actually, would you like to see my paper clip time machine
Mental Health Worker - No Skip, you're ill not mad
Skip - Woof woof, my bed can reach warp factor 8
Today Nick Clegg has decided it's time to end the 'Stigma' surrounding Mental Health and the mad people who have none of it. This makes me smile, because Nick is a tit who wouldn't know mad if it drew a stick man on his pants and swallowed his wife's lip gloss because it looked like it would taste nice (it doesn't - I know this)
I'm still mad, I have a piece of paper that says so (it also acts as a free bus pass - when I show the driver it they stop demanding I pay any fare and they leave me alone) I'm not hung up about what people think of me (except my stick men, I get upset when they take the piss. Then I rub them out - ha! I win)
There will always be a stigma surrounding people who bark at the moon and wear hats made of tin foil (I prefer cling film, it looks more urban) So Nick is a bit mad if he thinks he can change things. Which is sort of ironic and makes me smile. Trying to change this stigma would be like trying to put spaghetti up a cats arse - painful, pointless and fucking insane. So wobble off Nick you skip licking throbber...