"Hmmm" Doctor Portress mused as he gazed into the workings of my head.
"Can you see that on the screen?". Yes, I could.
The image of my brain; exposed, pulsing and transmitted in full colour on a wall mounted flat screen TV.
"That's interesting...looks like some sort of crucially embarrassing moment. Maybe age eight...?"
The time Tom O'Dwyer pulled my pants down in the school playground and everyone pointed and jeered. The way Jane Dunne looked at me, with her lovely blue eyes.
"That's possibly a source of your neurosis...we could just cut it out but we'd need to be careful - it's almost touching each of your positive Christmas Day memories and a some nice looking holiday emotions".
Cut he did and since then my difficulties with the opposite sex have diminished noticeably.
Although Santa Claus now fills me with dread.
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