Dear Journal,
Since I'm as "mad" as the rest of the patients, I have to sit through their group meetings too. This Harding guy had this problem with his wife and her breasts. Hoo boy, that "touch upon" joke was so funny. That uptight Nurse Ratched didn't think so, though. Telling them my records, mispronouncing my name. Who does she think she is? Then I try to bring some more fun and games into that meeting, but no one's laughing. So, I just sat and waited before I made any kind of play, like a true gambler. I wasn't a fan of these Group Therapy shindigs. They remind me of my least favorite kind of party, chicken peckin' parties. And it didn't take long for Harding to admit that nurse was peckin' at his everlovin' balls. But that guy's such a coward, sayin' we're all rabbits and Nurse Ratched's the wolf. Goddammit, I'm no bunny or no wolf. Too bad the guys on the ward act like frightened little bunny rabbits. Looks like I'm the one who needs take down Nurse Ratched. Just like my Unk Hallahan, I'm gonna get the best of that woman, without her getting the best of me. No Disturbed Ward, Shock shop, or lobotomy for me. Hoo, I can't wait to get her goat, see her fall apart, and win the bet I made with all them Acutes. I think I'm gonna like this place.
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