Hello friends. My name is Lemon Reilly, your Life Doctor. I am a Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist and Homeopath with freshly smelling, non-creepy offices in Peoria. I offer safe healing alternatives that complement my physical remedies, guiding seekers with special techniques to help them achieve peace, joy, and life fulfillment.

Yips McFlann from Yips-McFlann County Line Highway writes:
Every since moving to the McFlann county side of the County Line Highway my softball skills in the local Senior Swatters League have gone all to hell, Lemon, especially when I play second base and attempt to field ground balls or flip the ball to second. I would say I got the yips! Do you think it could be due to me being particular lonesome for the Yips County side of the line?

Lemon replies:
Your crude and superstitious explanation for the all-too-natural deterioration of your fielding and throwing skills saddened me so much, Yips McFlann, that I have tarried an entire week over my reply, spending long hours in the corner of my favorite teahouse on Kline and Fitzpatrick in my usual corner by the reading lamp with the yellow shade, hunched over and drooling yea if not in fact verily at nap. But good news, lifeseeker, for the tea has helped! Give up softball for the time being and stick to the close regimen of Lemondrop Licorice Spit Gargle #36 that was prescribed for your McFlann underpants rash in 2019, and stay positive!

Doreen from 312 Hartford Court, Danbury CT (203-555-1243, ISO LOVE) writes:
My love life has fallen on rocky times, Lemondrop Reilly, and I write to you not so much for advice as for solace in this vale of sorrows. Since we last communicated, I must inform you that I started dating a fireman and he was the only thing that could douse my flames that was until I found out he had his hose in other people’s windows, specifically Jenny Harrison’s the wife of the dentist on Floyd Parkway. Then I was seeing a cop until I caught him with his pistol where it sure did not belong. No lest you mistake my meaning Lemondrop I mean that sometimes a pistol is just a pistol, and I do not appreciate waking up in the morning with firearms in my bed. My bed is not a shooting gallery, it is for slow smooching only, as he had been advised. With the firefighter on the other hand, well oftentimes a hose is not merely just a hose. My point being that the firefighter’s hose was a long-distance phone line and we still keep in touch. Indeed we are good friends unlike his ex-flame Jennifer and this would not be a problem except that my daughter is now eighteen and somehow manages to intercept the firefighter’s calls every night at 7 pm and they sit on the line chattering and giggling on MY DIME because that hose-nose only calls collect and for no fewer than two hours at a time. Lemon I swear to you that I have to turn the TV way up to drown it out, my own daughter’s tittering. I am confused and need comfort.

Lemon replies:
Yes Doreen from Danbury I recall that you emailed me photographs Officer Tom Grusby’s droopy moustache and his stubby-nosed gun. Atrocious. You have made the correct decision to walk away from the bedclothes ruffian. Your daughter on the other hand must choose her own hoser, and the firefighter in which direction to turn his nozzle.