The Wise Ass Buddha

Mr. Buddha, I've been a total failure.

Tell me more, monk.

My mind wanders, I don't learn the chants, I get angry and impatient and selfish. Need I say more?

No, do not say more.

Can you tell me one thing I could do to cure my ways?

I could.

Will ya?

Yes.

Now?

Sure. Just master your mind.

Easier said than done.

But it is one thing, as you asked, you goof-ball.

Who is it that should master my mind?

Don't play any of those zen games on me. It isn't important.

What kind of Buddha are you? First you say, "master your mind" and
then when I ask who should do the work, you say it isn't important.

To be truthful, I'm not a very good Buddha. I know of no truths or paths
that you do not need to find yourself.

So can you point me to a better Buddha?

Sure, look in the mirror.

Who taught you those wise ass answers?

I see your impatience and anger. Why don't you go off into a cave for nine years and work on your mind.

My mind. Where is my mind?

Go into the cave, and your mind will follow you. Then master it, watching it as it gets lost over and over again.

And who watches it?

You'll find someone, don't worry.

And then what?

That will be enough...