“I’ve been making a lot of Freudian slips lately,” a man says to his friend. “Like what?” asks his buddy. “Well, last week I asked the train conductor for two pickets to Tittsburgh.” “I did something similar the other day,” says the friend. “My wife and I were having breakfast, and instead of saying, ‘Honey, please pass the butter,’ I said, ‘You bitch—you ruined my life!’”