For fourteen years I was a professor of biochemistry at the University of San Diego. Ten years ago I caught my wife having sex with my best friend. We split a week later and I sought the help of a therapist.

When my colleagues at work found out about me seeing a therapist they teased me. Scientists can be so very cruel.

Eventually the head of my department found out and he called me into his office. He hadn’t called me into his office since 1984 when he wanted to show me a sketch of naked woman he’d been drawing that morning. It was very good.

However, on this day there was no naked lady and he fired me on the spot. It seems that when a man seeks the help of a therapist he isn’t in complete control of his mind and he becomes a danger to the scientific community.

Once you’ve been given the “mad scientist” tag it’s pretty hard to find work. In the past few years, from home, I’ve cured almost all forms of cancer and found a way to turn radio waves into protein, but nobody wants to know when you’re not much more than the guy on the Weetos box.

Prof. Johnson, San Diego.

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