Jackson went to the psychiatrist, "Doc," I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed I think there's somebody under my bed. I get under the bed, I think there's somebody on top of it. Top, under, top , under. I'm going crazy!"
"Just put yourself in my hands for two days,"said the shrink.
Come to me three times a week I'll cure you.
How much do you charge?
A hundred dollars per visit.
I'll think about it.
Jackson never went back. Six months later he met the doctor on the street. Why you did not come and see me asked the Psychiatrist.
"For hundred bucks a visit? A bartender cured me for 10 dollars."
Is it so! How?
"He told me to cut the legs of my bed."
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