Where the hell do they find these Social Workers?

Social workers were/are a strange bunch that is for sure. They say that what they do, they do for us --baloney!
For starters lets introduce Patrick. A older hippy type of guy. He reminds me of a 486 computer with not enough ram to run all the processors at once. Although a nice guy, he has this habit of shutting down to think, he makes a pot of coffee and then crawls onto the donated leather couch, and takes off his glasses and thinks. ? - I ask him are you still awake, he clearly answers yes, and says that he is a champion bridge player and is figuring out different bridge games, going over the latest game that he read in the Toronto Star. I was just asking if you were awake because you haven't touched your coffee that you brought into the off limits to all food and beverages palour. He likes his coffee cold, more flavor--oh ok...thanks. I hear some guys upstairs, calling me up. They gave me shit because they want Patrick to fall asleep so they can break into the house office and get some drugs. I caution them that Patrick isn't sleeping he is thinking....While Patrick must have been in deep thought as the kids broke into the house office--searching for drugs, they found what they were looking for gravol--they quickly took the package and then fixed the house office door, and went back upstairs to get high on gravol--can you get high on gravol? Maybe I should interrupt Patrick's bridge game and ask him.........................