Splinter, n. A small fragment of wood, which often manages to work its
way into the hand. A splinter in the thumb has never been popular, but
nothing matches the swiftness of a person trying to deal with the true
sting caused by a splinter in the eye.
Once upon a time, a man came to a psychiatrist.
"Doc, wherever I go, whatever I look at, all I can see or think of
is sex, sex, sex. Can you tell me what's going on?"
"I think so, but I'd like to run a few ink blot tests first. I'm
going to hold up some sheets of paper with colored spots, and I
want you to tell me what you see.
Walking over to a shelf, he pulled a binder, and, opening it, began
to hold up sheets of paper.
"What's this a picture of?"
"Ok, what's this a picture of?"
"What about this one?"
"Can you explain how?"
"Yes. Right here, you can see that the..."
Thirty, forty, fifty ink blots. Always the same response -- "Sex.",
Setting down the binder, the psychiatrist opened his desk drawer,
and pulled out two sheets of paper from there -- one 8 1/2 x 11"
blue lined sheet of notebook paper, and one blank 8 1/2 x 11" sheet
of typing paper.
"All right. Those images are somewhat old, and perhaps all look
more or less the same. I want you to clear your mind of all
thought, and then I'm going to hold up two more sheets of paper,
different from any of the ones before. Could you please tell me
what you see?"
The psychiatrist, with one swift motion, lifted both sheets off the
desk, holding them up in the air for the patient to see.
"They are both graphic sexual images, like all the rest."
Even after profesional training, the psychiatrist was somewhat
taken aback; he wasn't expecting that reaction. Caught off guard,
he said, "Well, um, I see. You do seem to have a one track mind."
"Hey, Doc! You're the one who's drawing all of the dirty pictures."
- -- Hayward's Unabridged Dictionary