Q: How do you get back your son from his grandmother who has temporary custody?

A: It's important to remember that her custody of your son is only temporary, much like your recent run of insanity. Not permanent. Not forever. Temporary.

You didn't spend your whole life running through the village, urinating in all the mail boxes, riding small dogs and picketing stop signs, did you? No. It was only a few years. It was temporary. Eventually you came to your senses, pulled up your pants, climbed off those dogs and let the stop signs be. All it took was a few court orders and some tear gas. It passed. It is now over. Nobody even remembers it. These days most people know you as the guy who talks to the old washing machine under the bridge.

Nobody sees that billboard. Hardly anybody. How many people even use that road anymore? How many people even use roads? That billboard has no effect on the unemployeds, on the shut-ins, on the agoraphobes, on the houses arrested. That has to be like half the county, any one of whom might be the judge at your custody hearing.

Okay, obviously the billboard is a problem. It's hard to move on from a bout of temporary insanity when your face is twelve feet high and smiling and holding half a chicken and that half of the chicken is the bottom half, which is kind of weird and draws you in and draws your eye right to the slogan, which is a very good slogan. "Crazy Once, Crazy Forever."  Yup, that really hurt you in the election. And on those blind dates. And all those job interviews.

But, look, just because you have no job and no income and no one who loves you and nothing in your life except a washing machine and you are famously crazy doesn't mean you can't win back custody of your son. You have something his grandmother doesn't have: A father's love. And you have something else she doesn't have, something no one has: a sexually submissive relationship with an old washing machine. I wouldn't mention the latter in court.