The trifecta.

Jimmy drifted in to the bar like the smokey wisps of a dying campfire. He made his way along the rail until he reached his friend.
"Hey, Nicky," he said in a voice as lazy a hot humid summer's day. "What's new with you?"
Nicholas Gruber looked up from his beer with his sleepy eyes.
"I hate myself, I hate my shrink and I hate the government." He replied.
Hoisting his sweaty beer mug from the bar,  he grinned like the Cheshire Cat, "so you could say that I hit the trifecta after all."

You brute!

"How can you be that way? Where is your heart?"
"In a jar. About five blocks from here."