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vested in me I curse you to lose six to nine pounds a week until you die.' He didn't say 'Eenie-meenie-chili-beaniesoon you will
need a new Niques belt or you will be filing objections in your Jockey shorts.' HellBillyyou didn't even remember what he said until after you'd
started to lose the weight.
Maybe that's just when I became consciously aware of what he saidHalleck argued back. But
And so the argument raged.
If it was psychologicalthoughif it was the power of suggestionthe question of what he was going to do about it remained. How was he
supposed to combat it? Was there a way he could think himself fat again? Suppose he went to a hypnotist - hella psychiatrist,childrens ugg boots clearance! - and explained the
problem. The shrink could hypnotize him and plant a deep suggestion that the old Gypsy man's curse was invalid. That might work.
Orof courseit might not.
Two nights before he was scheduled to check into Glassman ClinicBilly stood on the scales looking dismally down at the dial - 179 tonight. And
as he stood looking down at the dialit occured to him in a perfectly natural way - the way things so often occur to the conscious mind after the
subconscious has mulled them over for days and weeks that the person he really ought to talk to about these crazy fyilai：
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