Deoderant: it all smells better than BO

Secret: Strong enough for a man, made for a woman, used by me while you were in the bathroom so I don't smell like roadkill for this thang we about to do.

PO challenge is my favorite, BO challenge is my least favorite

You know what my favorite test in medicine is?
No.
No.
No. Stop saying stool tests, this is a rare instance when it is not directly related to poo.  It's the PO challenge.  "PO" means, "per oral", or, "by mouth".  So the challenge is, can this person take food and drink by mouth, i.e. give them food and see how they do. 

This is awesome.  I wish someone would PO challenge me daily.  Just run up to me in the street and yell, "PO challenge!" then put a cheese steak and a bag of peanut M&Ms in front of me.

"What? Oh, you fucker!  Ok, let's do this.  Sorry Grandma, drive yourself to rehab, I've got a PO challenge to crush!"

Dichotomize: a great way to be an asshole

There are only two kinds of people in the world, regular people and know-it-all pricks who blatantly ignore the finer gradations of life in favor of sweeping generalizations that divide the world in two.

up up down down left right left right hit the center button then unlock the phone and troubleshoot

My iPhone connector to my PC (That's right, I'm a PC owner.  Eat that, Arbitrarily Shitty Mac) doesn't connect very well so I have to use a lot of finesse when synching it.  This is the closest thing I've had to trying to get a Nintendo cartridge to work in 15 years.  I really hope that at some point I decide that it needs a good blowing*.

*Note: I know what you are going to say here, blowing my iPhone would never get the connector to insert with more power and leave my iPhone charged for the whole day; that would be silly.  But this handjob I'm doing is just not filling my phone with the juice it needs, so I need to do something soon or my phone will become drained, shut down, and seek help elsewhere.  That whore.

Working like a dog. And later, being put down like a dog. Part 2

I haven't had a single problem all year.  This is because I have absolutely zero shame in rolling over.

Smile, nod, apologize, blame it on being new, apologize again, get them a soda, apologize again, smear feces on your face until everyone is laughing.  I don't care.  For me, it's totally worth it. I walk out every day with a smile, and some feces, on my face.

But I cannot blame my classmates who don't feel that way.  Without question, the two things that prepared me for being a med student more than anything else were football and my short lived days of being hazed in a fraternity (I'm such a stereotype, bro).  Not everyone thinks it's ok to be 26, but be treated like you are 8.  And stupid.  And useless.  So they stand up for themselves.  And that's when the flames start to appear, the smoke billows out and we fold a flag very neatly and take it to their parents' house.

After going through it, my advice is as follows**:  The hospital really is a rough place.  Not to sound over-dramatic, but people fucking die there and that changes the game a bit.  So people are really strung out.  The problems that occur are almost never because of someone being a genuine dick (although they exist) or incompetent (despite what everyone with a different job title will say about them the second they leave the room).  As is the case with most things, the problem is situational, not personal.  It is completely worthwhile to cool down and then just go talk to that person.  Pull them aside and say, "I'm very sorry that we seemed to have a problem yesterday, I wanted to clarify why I seemed upset."  If you talk yourself into a corner just say, "Well at the time, I thought it was best for the patient."  Then repeat, "I thought it was best for the patient" in a stern voice until they leave. Or completely roll over and smear poop on your face.  Haha, look at that guy, he's got poopey on his face!

*Note: This advice is for the 2 premeds who accidentally read this.

Working like a dog. And later, being put down like a dog. Part 1

It's amazingly easy to have your work environment spiral completely out of control as a med student.  I mean that in the worst way possible.  That, "I dread going to work every day, every one is out to get me (or, as we love to say in the medical world, "everyone is malignant", which means everyone has the potential to metastasize to other organs in your body.  Because that's what malignant means.  It doesn't really apply to human beings.  It's a stupid analogy, but makes us sound smart.  What was I talking about? I was in the middle of some quotations, so I'll just end them now and see how we do.)"

Medicine is unbelievably hierarchical (I spelled that write the first try, eat that Mrs. Farmer!), extremely territorial, and mind-blowingly adversarial.  It is a place like no fucking other. So take all of the normal problems with coworkers, bosses, work assignments, and deadlines, then throw an awkwardly useless human into the mix, that has to get certain things accomplished, while unquesioningly slowing the whole system down, and you can see why problems start.  Problems with residents.  Problems with other med students.  Problems with attendings.  Problems with nurses.  Problems with inanimate, but decidedly territorial objects.  The list goes on.

One awkward misunderstanding and you have just tapped into a world of hurt. You won't say anything because you are being evaluated, and getting into it with a nurse who works there every single day with the doctors evaluating you; someone who has worked there since before you even came up with the idea for your shitty, overindulgent college personal statement, is a bad, bad, bad idea.  So you won't say a thing.  Or you will and dig yourself a further hole.

I have seen this.  I have seen people have to essentially get entire chunks of their evaluations thrown out, and have to be moved to a different work site because of problems with staff.  The only reason these students even get that kind of resolution is because it's 2010 and in the last few years it occurred to med school administrations that it isn't ok to abuse the shit out of medical students.  Medical students who happen to be adults.  Responsible, voting, recycling adults.

I'm a world expert on all things that directly link to that page about "In Living Color"

A close read of a Wikipedia article can get you solidly on your way to becoming a real know-it-all prick about something.

Don't bother me, I'm busy drawing this horse I'm going to eat when I'm bored

The difference in my hunger between when I'm busy and when I'm bored has been scientifically derived to be a fucking horse.

How do you draw a bunny?

My favorite fringe benefit of doctordom is that we have convinced everyone that one of the most professional things we can wear is pajamas and slippers.

"America On Line Instant Messenger", every word of that is outdated.

I just accidentally signed on to AIM.  I had no idea they made it through the Y2K crisis*

*Note: Alternative jokes ...I had no idea I could log on without a DOS prompt.
...I had no idea AIM made it past my Commodore. 
...It started a virus called, "small pox".
...Luckily I just bought call waiting, so I won't have a problem tying up my apartment's phone line.
...AIM is still on my computer for the same reason my appendix is still on my colon.  I hope it doesn't get infected.
...let's keep this party going, feel free to post your own, "your fad product is so old..." jokes

A Portrait of an Artist Whining

The one thing that makes me regret my decision to go into medicine is to look at a lot of art.  Doesn't matter what kind, oil, charcoal, movies, comedy, magazine journalism, blockbuster reviews, bathroom stall wit; if I look at enough of it, I get nostalgic and think that I made a poor choice. Or that I've been in the bathroom reading wit for too long.

I know what you are going to say, "Meat, you are on this path to medicine, but you aren't excluded from making art.  You can maintain a shitty blog occasionally when you have time.  You can keep up 140 characters on Twitter to entertain Justin Bieber.  You can even make it two paragraphs into an essay or get the outline of a painting put on a canvas and then stuff it in your closet.  Is that not good enough for you?  Are you too good to get 1/3 of the way through a novel before winter break ends and you go back to working 12-18 hours a day?

"And what about the art in medicine?  You know, the times when you ignore data and evidenced based medicine and do something completely different for a patient because of a hunch?  Isn't that art? Isn't that enough?"

It is, you're right.  But it just get's me all philosophical.  What's the point?  Of philosophy that is.  Doesn't seem to accomplish much, just a bunch of questions and thoughts.  But that's what I miss, questions and thoughts. Provocation.  Product devoid of point. Thought devoid of goals.  Work devoid of "means", comprised only of "ends".  I love those ends.  I miss those ends.  Sweet delicious ends.  Like a cupcake, but where the ends are delicious.

But it is "means" that I have chosen.  Huge, long, winding, tortuous means to a theoretical end that is supposed to be awesome.  And it is.  The end is awesome and the means are most assuredly fun in and of themselves.  They absolutely fuel me and make me feel complete.  Taking care of patients, and learning about disease, those things make me feel complete. Almost.  Almost because they are decidedly devoid of art.

The questions I have for myself then, is can I work art into my career?  It's been done.  With poor outcomes mostly (Atul Gawande's literary talents would be the limping one picked off by the lions first, and don't get me started on that doctor turned stand-up who was in "Knocked Up".  If you do get me started, I'll probably make a bunch of shitty jokes, but then say how much I love "Community".  So don't do that), but I'm not sure I have to be awesome.  I think I can just be productive (i.e. adequate, mediocre).  I think I can be satisfied just producing art alongside my medicine. I just have to figure out how. Maybe I'll start a blog.

Shave and a taped butt*

How many times have you had your butt cheeks shaved and then taped open?  None? Once?  Yeah, I agree.  But recently I have shaved and taped open the butt cheeks of several, well intentioned, upstanding, contributing members of society.  The kind of people who are diligently watching the plight of those miners.  All in a days work on the colorectal surgery service.

*two bits.

Gum slinger

A thin stick of gum will never be as good as a shorter, thicker piece of gum.

I am...NPH

It's always weird when a patient asks me how old I am.  Do I tell them?  I don't think that's completely appropriate.  I guess I can say, "I don't think that is an appropriate question for me to answer", which will emphasize both that it isn't important to their care and that I am a complete cheesedick.  I'm just going to start saying, "Me? 16.  Have you ever seen Doogie Howser?  The show was based on me.  Now give me your arm I have to do stuff to it."

I'm scared of hipsters, their bikes are so single speed.

I'm going to a concert soon, which will be my first in 2 years (when adjusted for med school free time, it was really only 3 weeks ago). I often get nervous before a concert and feel like I have to prepare.  I wouldn't want to be caught rocking out really hard to that one line about the dogs where they say, "canine", but I always think they are going to say. "cage".  I don't want to look stupid in front of that hipster. His glasses are so big.

All the answers are just outside the box

You know how they say that sometimes you need to solve a problem by looking at it with a completely different view point?  Well today I'm going to see what I can get done being a Mac using, Blackberry owning, staunchly conservative, suburb loving, tiny dog owning, Packer's fan.

Hell yeah, found my keys!

This tech has NO idea how to get this ultra sound done!...before I go to lunch

A really important skill necessary for being a hospital employee is to learn how to bitch about how everyone else doesn't know how to do their job and is incompetent.  If you can follow it up with some martyresque comment about how you, "wouldn't even mind, but it's the patient who is suffering", you can give yourself and A+.

Don't be scared, the diagrams make it seem easy enough.

One of my favorite doctors, whenever someone would ask him if he had ever done a certain procedure before, would always reply, "Nope, first time, wish me luck!".

It's good to have heroes.

Decisive decisions

We had mice in our apartment, so our maintenance guy put out glue traps. We caught one (a mouse, not a maintenance guy.  Although we did give him a hard time about leaving), and what followed was the most extensive and morbid discussion of how to kill a mouse quickly and humanly. We finally decided on the brutal but quick hammer and a plastic bag and when we picked it up, it had starved to death.

RichBtch on Twitter totes agrees with me

Although you can't believe everything you read on-line, you definitely can use it as irrefutable evidence in an argument.

I guess it makes sense if you are really in favor of things being formed. Or a porn star.

"Procreation". Shouldn't it be "Precreation"?

And I don't get paid.

My non-med friends always ask me what's different about working in medicine from any other job?  In a lot of ways it isn't that different.  But then again, your boss can ask you to do some shitty things, but is one of them, "Go acquire fluid from that person's genitals and test it for STDs"?

BECAUSE IT WOULD BE SO EFFING AWESOME TO RIDE SOMETHING so economical and earth-friendly

Low cost and fuel efficiency are good lies for me to tell people about why I want a Moped.

All's fun and games til someone gets the clap

Nothing puts the "real" in "venereal" like a urethral swab.  Wrap it up, Guy, and I won't have to stick a Q-tip in your penis-hole.

The DO NOT MISStery

Part of the reason we take tests is so we can understand and handle the really important diseases of each specialty.  For instance in neuro, they want to make sure we never miss a burst aneurysm or stroke.  Or in Ob/Gyn, they don't want us to miss preeclampsia.  So they drill these into our head and make sure we never forget. But the funny thing is that although we never forget them*, we never really know them in the first place.  


For instance, a Tylenol overdose is something that was molded into my being during my peds rotation.  I've learned it literally 100 times. It was literally pounded into my head, where I literally had a subdural from this pounding, to use a certain drug for a Tylenol overdose. Except if someone ever walked in with a Tylenol overdose, I would be like, "Got it, I know this one, nurse, this diagnosis of Tylenol overdose should be treated with the Tylenol overdose antidote."


And the nurse would go, "Great job doctor, good catch.  Now what is that antidote?"


I know this too, because I've been studying very hard, "N-acetyl-something"


"N-acetylcysteine?"


"I think so.  If you give me 3 other choices and label them A, B, C and D**, I'll definitely be able to pick the correct answer".


Then the nurse will say, "Ok, how much do you want to give?"


To which I will cooley and calmly reply, "I have no idea.  5?  50? 500?  What year were you born?  Give her that many."  Because dosing is something I'll learn in medical school II, or by magic, or maybe twitter.


"So 1,974? You want me to give her 1,974mg? And what route would you like me to use?"


"I would take the elevator in the Southwest hallway, It's not the closest, but when you get off, it has the signs to the pharmacy so I don't get lost"


"It comes in pills or IV.  Your choices are 6.58 pills, based on your dose, or we can just give IV."

"By mouth sounds good."


"The patient can no longer swallow because this has taken so long.  I've already started her on an IV with the correct dose.  I'm so glad you did well on your peds rotation."


*This is not true, I've already forgotten it.
**I realize this is my second joke about Tylenol overdoses and multiple choice tests, but since it's the only thing I've actually learned this far, I have to keep using it or I fear I'll have to learn something new, which will push Tylenol overdose right out of my head.  I can't forget about Tylenol overdose.  I can't ever forget about Tylenol overdose.

Disease: a new reality show

We did a differential diagnoses case in lecture of a woman with possible hypothyroidism manifest by some abnormal bleeding.  Then, later, I was working in the clinic, and a woman came in with possible hypothyroidism with some abnormal bleeding. It's almost like these things they talk about in class are...real...

Night of the living asystole

Many people bring in their own med list.  This is really helpful because then you can be sure that you aren't going to give a medication the person is allergic to or give two drugs that will interact; in general, it will reduce mishaps.

Except for one patient I saw.

She brought in her med list and on it was a list of allergies and her reaction to the med.  So it would say something like, "metoprolol- light headed", or "lisinopril- cough".  Then for one med it said, and I'm not making this up, "benadryl- zombie".

Usually the principle is, "Do no harm", but in this case it was, "Do no harm.  But if you do do some harm, destroy the brain 'til it don't get back up no more."

I'm denying that there are any conceptual errors in this, and if you disagree, you are a poopy head.

Some time long ago, some psych guy came up with the concept of defense mechanisms.  With a good grasp on defense mechanisms, you can pretty much annoy the piss out of anyone.

"How did your psych rotation go?"
"It was ok, I think I learned a lot and the patients were interesting."
"So you hated it and you are just using Rationalization to justify the time you put in."
"No, I really liked it."
"That's Reaction Formation, you're saying the opposite of how you feel."
"Ok I think I liked it."
"Don't repress your feelings, it clearly sucked."
"I'm not repressing anything."
"Classic Denial"
"I'm not in denial!"
"That's called Acting Out.  It's an immature defense you know."
"Clearly you are the one who hated it or you wouldn't be grilling me like this."
"Don't project your feelings onto me."
"Would you stop? You are annoying the shit out of me."
"You are displacing your anger about your rotation on me."
"Ahhh! Fucking stop! You are a fucking asshole!"
"...Regression."

Slim chance I'd get that shady

When I'm really fucking pissed, I like to listen to Eminem so I can be like, yeah ok, I'm not that angry.  Take a chill pill, Marshall.

Actually wait, you should stay away from chill pills.

Anatomically correct smiley face

   o   o
      \
    O
     |
 ( /  \ )
( )   <3)
( _)_ _
(    / { }
(   /_ _J
  | www|
  '    O  S
     o|o
       |


Artists Note: The urethra should be totally straight.  And probably not have a hole in it.  Definitely not have a hole in it.

It recently occurred to me that this face is not smiling, contrary to my title.  Probably has something to do with having his body splayed open in a display-like fashion.  Or the hole in his penis. That thing can't be comfortable.

It's my way of sticking it to the hipsters and the man at the same time

I like getting starbucks coffee because then I feel like I have a pass to go into any starbucks and do whatever the fuck I want.

"It's cool, bro, I'm in the club, check out this grande.  Do you have a hanger, I'm gonna take my pants off?"

The most extreme thing in glitter

Gymnastics and diving are interesting sports.  When you watch them, the commentators do a really good job of instantly warping your perceptions.  They will say something like, "ooh, a nice one and a half on the beam, a spin, a sprint, and dismount, triple flip, and she sti...no wait, a foot forward.  That will cost her".

Um, that girl just flipped in the air and landed on a 6 inch peace of wood, then sprinted on it and flipped off and you are upset because she took a step when she landed.  Why are we not commenting more on the fact that she didn't crush her genitals or converge her face and her shoulders into one permanent body part?  That girl lives in the Matrix.

Or diving.  The guy made a slightly larger splash than we wanted.  It's like if I drove a motorcycle head on at a semi on the highway, spun underneath it, and when I came out I was wearing the trucker's hat and people were commenting on how I put it on crooked.  Give that guy a break, he just fell 3 stories.  Let's talk more about how he's still alive.

At least thinking about sex is safe

HPV associated head and neck cancer is correlated with pot smoking and oral sex. Party. Over.

Movie critic. Food critic. Well, food in movies critic.

I'm a fat kid.  I'm not actually fat because I work out and try to eat healthy, but at heart, I'm a fucking whale.

I know this because I was watching a scene in a movie where the protagonist and his friend were going to grab some hot dogs on the way home from work.  The friend bought an extra hot dog for the protagonist's brother and they were walking home, carrying the hot dogs, and talking.  They began to argue and the protagonist got pissed at his friend; as the argument came to a head, the protagonist stormed off.

The only thing I could think about the entire scene was that extra hot dog.  Don't forget that hot dog.  You're going to leave without that extra dog.  Don't do it.  You are letting your emotions get the best of you.  You're not thinking clearly.  Take the hot dog.  It's not even for you.  Don't let your brother suffer because you have an anger management problem.  You are blinded by rage and you are going to forget that hot dog.  Stop it.  You are a grown man.  Get a hold of yourself, and that hot dog, and walk away without ruining a friendship.  Or a piece of encased meat.  Think of your brother.  And the hot dog.  You are going to leave a relationship and a hot dog behind.  You arrogant prick.

And he did.  He left that hot dog.

I never forgave him.

I'm compassionate about whether or not you passed gas

No one cares about urine or gas more than medical students. We are the uriNational Army of Flatuland. Bow to our will and plastic collection devices!

Holey Jesus

My Girlfriend, from My Life, asks,

Why do all of your clothes have holes in them?

Good question girlfriend.  I think it's a combination of a couple of factors.  First and foremost, I would like to cite laziness.  Never underestimate the power of laziness.

Yes, I'm aware that the Gap is literally  around the corner from me, but you have no idea the kind of effort that goes into having to walk inside the store.  There's the walking part.  The looking at stuff part.  The trying on things part.  Oh god, and the pay for stuff part?  What the hell is that about?  Swipe. Would you like credit or debit? Sign. Do you want your receipt?  Jesus, what is this, the census report?  Stop asking questions and give me my shitty clothes.

Next I would like to refer to nostalgia.  Er, not nostalgia.  What's it when it's like nostalgia in that you like it because you've had it for awhile, but in reality, you don't give a shit about it?  Complacency? I'd like to refer to complacency.  Here you might say, well isn't complacency pretty much just laziness again?  Yes, probably.  Now shut up (not you, Girlfriend, I want to continue to sleep with you.  I meant someone else!).

An important question I should address is why the holes are actually there.  Bicycle, wallet, a pen, drinking, I'm not sure about that one, cat, splintered wood, gamma-ray induced enlargement when angry, sledding, I just saw a picture of me in those pants from 2006 so I'll attribute that to just pure wear; plus I know I didn't buy that shit in 2006.

Finally, social acceptance.  It has come to my attention that these holes are not socially acceptable, so why does that not drive me to improve?  I recently learned that it is not socially acceptable to still have Ninja Turtle paraphernalia and that I should probably grow up and buy an umbrella, too.

Sounds like a big case of "my life is boring, join me" syndrome (not you, Girlfriend, someone else!).  Listen to yourself (not you, Gf, se!), you sound like my mom (nyGse!) and should be ashamed of yourself (ny!).  Grow up on your own(!), I have a bowl of cereal to eat and some cartoons to watch.  Isn't there some sort of meeting your need to go to or some kids from soccer practice that need picking up (oh please god not you, Girlfriend.  I hope I meant someone else)?

On the rare occasions I get to wear comfortable clothes, I'm quite content having a giant hole in my armpit that lets the world know, yes, I Meat put on deodorant today (I'm not a role model, merely a leader).  For the amount of growing up I'm forced to do on a daily basis, shame on you for ruining one more kid's Christmas by telling him that Santa isn't real and buying him a boring holeless shirt.  It's not that I'm a child, irresponsible, or don't care about fashion. It's just that I'm kind of a child, I'm only responsible about a select group of things and I don't care about fashion.

Computer figures out how to be a real know-it-all prick

"Computer algorithm can recognize sarcasm".  Next up, learning the "silent treatment" algorithm and gaining a "no porn tonight, go sleep on the couch" function.

Hit it! Or not.

 An addendum to my post on phrases.  Another phrase I'm unclear on why it exists.

"It's really hit or miss"

Oh ok.  Wait, what are my other options?

M and M and M and M and M

Calling the larger sized bags of peanut m&ms "Tear and share" is one of the best marketing tools ever created. 


"How can we make people feel both not fat and generous, when all parties involved know that neither are true?"

And to think, we all hated making graphs in 6th grade

Dragons fucking hate couches

The highlights

There are two major goals of highlighting, to sift out the most important aspects of a passage for future review and to not look like one of those color coding nerds that just highlights everything. 

F-Bomb Grandmom

Whenever I'm around my grandparents and say even, "crap" my parents scorn me and give me the watch your language around the grandparents lecture (a youtube favorite).  Why?  My grandma is 87, she has uttered more swears in her life than I've heard from all my hours of reality tv.  She knows swears that were buried in ancient tombs, the kind that summon beasts.  My grandma isn't an innocent soul that is going to accidentally repeat what I say in her daycare.  I don't think the report is going to come back that she was riling up her bridge game with her hootenanney.  Grandma will be just fine with the occasional F-bomb.  And if she's not, she will set a fiery beast upon me, granting no mercy on me and my smutty, idle-handed, soulless generation of tattoed, fist pumping, blasphemers sending us directly to the pits of Hades with rock music as our entrance theme.

Wet it and forget it.

If I really dissect my shower experience,  I can't remember the last time it occurred to me to do the ol', "behind the ankle".  I bet there are small areas of my body that I haven't washed since the 90s.

Delicious bus metaphors

I like expressions that don't make a lot of sense but kind of do.  Like "to throw someone under the bus".  We all know what that means, one person was a dick and fucked over someone else.  But what does that mean? I guess I get it.  I mean, if someone threw me under a bus, that would suck.  I would be run over by a bus.  That would be bad.  Buses are big and heavy.  An unfortunate place for me to be thrown would be underneath one. 


Another great one is "you can't have your cake and eat it too".  I have no idea what that means, but if I really think about it, yeah, I'd love to have some cake but also get to eat it.  It's like having two cakes. that would be awesome.  And yes I can see why I can't do that, most of the time, I've only got one cake.  Perhaps it can be summed up by saying, "You can't have something and also not have that thing.  In this instance, that thing will be cake."

V/Q mismatch maker

The pulmonologist running my small group revealed to us the pulmonary clinic magic bullet, V/Q mismatch.  He said if you are ever pimped on a question about a patient with lung problems, just say, "Well, I was kind of thinking V/Q mismatch".  


Although it's clearly not what the pulmonologist was thinking, she'll stop for a second, furrow her brow, look up for a bit, call the fellow over, "what do you think about V/Q mismatch?", they'll mumble for a bit, furrow an impressive amount of brow, pace around, walk out of the clinic, head back to the Pulm Cave (which is a dead space I believe) and you are totally off the hook.  It's like hitting a shark on the nose.  No one's really sure what just happened, but you still have your legs and you get to go home.

Oh sure you can borrow my watch

I can't do psych  I'm far too trusting.

"So they forced the cocaine up your nose?  That's terrible.  I'm so sorry to hear that.  What's that?  You also suffer from claustrophobia and want the door unlocked and open?  No problem.  I'm going to go tell the nurse about your pain and get you that morphine you were asking for.  Stay tight, we are going to help you."

My new idea: a comic strip

Hey man, you're in med school right?  Can you take a look at my rash

Uh, sure.

Rash of some kind.

So am I going to die?

Well I've only taken biochem, but yes

Four letter words!

I meant one day.

(Someone else) I saw your balls!

What up dog?

What if we reacted the way dogs do when they see each other? 


"Holy shit! There's someone else from my species!  Ok, calm but alert, calm but alert.  Say the same thing over and over loudly until you get near enough to rub faces.  Great. And now...oh yes, her crotch smells awesome!" 


Actually that's not altogether inaccurate.

Aphrodeezzze fo sheeze

Dear Strawberries,

You did a great job, thanks!

Sincerely,

Sex

Shame on you, Surprisingly Healthy Twizzlers, for highlighting my lack of self control

It's bad when you look at the nutritional information on your favorite food and find that it's about as healthy as a game of "swallow the cigarettes".

But it's just as bad to look at the nutritional information on your favorite food and find out that it's not that bad; because having only 19 grams of sugar is only comforting for about the first 17 and then Insta-Diabetes* starts to ruin the flavor.

*Insta-Diabetes is a medical term for a type of Diabetes that I made up.

Embarrassing voyeurism

I think you can ruin almost any song if you just think about someone watching you listen to it.

Crucial decisions

"Obama lost sleep over the decision".  That's not really garnering my sympathy, CNN.  Meat, "lost sleep" over a crucial foul call this weekend.  There was a massive sleep loss due to an intense bout of YouTube last night. Just a few weeks ago, I agonized most of the night over how many more episodes of The Office Season 3 I should get through.  Will Jim and Pam get together?!?! ...I mean in Season 3. I can't remember if they get together in Season 3 or Season 4.  That's why I'm rewatching it at 2am.  Come to think of it, I lost a lot of frozen pizza over that decision as well.

Notable quotables.

You and your friend's conversations are boring, stereotypical for your group dynamic, and annoying to the people around you in comparison to the conversations me and my friends have, which are notable for being awesome.

You have been tagged in a photo, click here to judge yourself

I have never once looked at a group picture and looked at anyone else in the group until at least the third time of staring at myself.  You might as well send me a cropped shot.

Area man injured after starting iTunes and Pandora simultaneously

I'm always concerned that if I accidentally play two songs at the same time, my speakers will fucking explode.

I'm a flip flopper

Because this* video means so much to me, I've decided to provide the missing internal commentary to it.  If you are wondering how I know what he's thinking, I'm on psych right now, so I'm telepathic.

0:01- That's my fucking sandal!

0:06- Careful now, don't want to put it on too hastily.

0:10- Better test the top and make sure that feels like my sandal.

0:13- It is my sandal, for sure.  I'll pick it up for safety, but I'll have to be closer to the ground for this to go well.

0:14-24- For 10 seconds, I'm going to practice grasping my sandal.  I cannot mess this up.

0:24- Whoa guy! I got this.

0:29- Test run.  Feels good.  Definitely my fucking sandal. Go for it...go for it.

0:34- All I can say is, thank god that's over.

0:36- Pheww.

0:38- Alright, got the sandals on, sunglasses still there.  Deep breath.  Let's make a move, slick, let's make a move...

0:44- Oh shit! Gravity!

0:45- Girl: Are you ok?
Me: Gravity just took my fucking sandals!
Girl: Gravity?
0:50- Me: You've never heard of gravity!?!  It's the tits, but like, gotta respect it or she'll rip  the sandals right off your feet.
Girl: Oh ok, we'll all watch out for that.
1:00- Me: Yeah, you gotta block it, like this.
Girl: Great, thanks.
Me: No problem

1:08- That's my fucking sandal!

1:09- Almost...reach...push through barrier harder...got it!

1:11- Oh shit.  That's my fucking sandal!

1:16- Got 'em.  Now I'll just drop them and expect them to land perfectly aligned.

1:17- And they did.

1:22- Left on.

1:32- Only 10 seconds for the right, not too shabby.

1:35- Oh good, my cheering section finally showed up.  Thumbs up to them.  Gravity.  Thumbs up.

1:38- Aaaaaannnd strut off for a drink.

*Note:Open the link in a new window. If anyone knows how to make those bits link to the actual video bits, I'm listening.  By reading. Your answer.  So provide it. Another acceptable answer would be to tell me how to embed the video.  Which I currently cannot do.

Technology changes, dirty words don't

When people get nervous, the sympathetic stimulation that results, narrows the mind's eye to a pretty sharp focus making normal reasoning and outside the box thinking amazingly difficult (to simplify an extremely complicated process and nonchalantly link nanometer sized neurotransmitters to the entire conscious being that is the mind, but hey, that's pop psychology for you.  Thanks Blink).  Additionally, even simple and ergonomically designed electronics are massively foreign when you haven't seen them before.  Apparently "intuitive" to engineers somehow doesn't quite translate to everyone else.  Who knew.

All of this leads to some of my favorite moments in med school in which one of our professors, who invented and then subsequently cured cancer, stands in front of 150 twenty somethings and loses his shit when the smart board doesn't quite work, unleashing words he hasn't used since his residency in the 1800s, and eventually gives up for the chalk board.

Keeping up with my artistic side in med school

Testing my patients

It is very frustrating in med school when you read the clinical vignette (a medical term for, "story".  Because we can never let anyone know what the hell we are talking about) for a test question and as you are reading the symptoms, you think, "Alport's Syndrome!  Boom! got this one, it is definitely going to be Alport's syndrome", then the next line of the question is, "You diagnose this as Alport's syndrome..."

Fucking great.  That was it, that was all I knew about Alport's syndrome, the fucking presentation.  Now, whatever the next part of this question is, I am guaranteed not to know.  You just exhausted my supply of Alport's knowledge.  What?  What do you want, Test?  What asinine thing do you want to know about Alport's?

"...the sensitivity of ultrasound in diagnosing severe renal disease in Alport's syndrome is NOT similar to the following ranges of numbers expressed as the filled in rows of this Friday's 5 Star sudoku:"

Maybe they are sponsoring me, but it's a double blind sponsorship...

My favorite drug in the world is Placebo.  I would love to be sponsored by Placebo.  It's the cheapest drug on the market, has virtually no side effects (it genuinely does have some side effects amazingly enough. Real, honest to god, statistically significant side effects), works on literally every disease it has ever been used on, including cancer, and is the most delicious tasting of all drugs ever created.  The only Big Pharma company I would be supporting is Mars, or Nestle, maybe Brach. And if your nephew gets into a big old bottle of placebo, you will only have to deal with him getting real psyched up for a few hours...or you would have to deal with that if the hyperactivity of excess sugar weren't just a placebo effect*.

*Although if it is a placebo effect, then it would happen, but not because of the sugar in Placebo, but because of the placebo in Placebo.  "That kid is all hyped up!  He had way too much placebo at his birthday party.  It was 'prescription drug abuser'-themed.  He was being Brett Favre and took it too far.  I called Poison Control. They told me to make him eat his vegetables and not to ruin his dag ol' appetite befo' supper."

To call a rose by any other name is wrong and you should read more.

Doctor: And what else can exacerbate MS?
Medical Student: Hmm, heat?  And so patient's can wear a cold vest in the summer as part of their treatment, I believe.
Doctor: Yup, do you know what that's called?
Medical Student:  Oh man, I know I learned this.  Starts with a U...
Doctor: Yup.  It's German.
Medical Student: Urdiff, urtenoff
Doctor: Uhthoff's phenomenon
Medical Student: Right Uhthoff's phenomenon!  I'm glad you told me.  I almost didn't know the name of the phenomenon that I just described, making it very clear that, although I know about this disease, both showing you that I'm working hard and reinforcing that I can eventually help people with this devastating diagnosis, I could never use it in a sentence.
Doctor: Yes, and as you mentioned, and I made obvious with my questioning, you almost didn't know the name, thus rendering it useless.  While trying to explain MS to a patient, without being able to say, "Uhthoff's phenomenon" you would likely have to make use of easy to understand terms describing the phenomenon directly and making it accessible to anyone.
Medical Student: Good point.  What a waste of my medical education that would be.
Doctor:  Exactly...exactly.

Hard crowd. Sorry, tough crowd

We have actors come in, pretend to be patients, and give us bullshit feedback about our empathy levels. It's pretty asinine so when my buddy saw a patient with erectile dysfunction he said, "that must be hard for you...or not". He was thrown out of the room.  Later, a portrait of him will be hung in our hallowed halls.

I need some water and some therapy

Med school really tests out your basal instincts.  You will regularly find yourself in the midst of 7 hours into the day without eating, drinking, peeing, sitting, or sleeping for days on end.  Suddenly you get 5 minutes free to yourself and now you have a decision.  Or rather I should say, your basal reptilian brain stem has a decision.  I find it really interesting to stand there for a second and realize that peeing, yes, urination, that's what I want to do with my 5 minutes.  Or water, today water is what I really need most.  And some days I just curl up on the ground and rock back and forth until I've exhausted the tears.  Whatever it takes to get through the day.

I'm not in a bad mood, I just don't like you

Nothing gets me back to work faster than someone I don't like trying to talk to me. 


Fucking busy here, ok? Take your "free playoff tickets" elsewhere.  I know it looks like I'm on facebook, but I have to go through all 6 pages of my notes and make sure all the bullet points have the same margins, OK?...Douche bag.

An Apple a day keeps the doctor, and everyone within ear shot, happy.

Remember when you were a kid and you had that video, the one that you watched so many times that to this day, if someone played the opening song, you'd probably have a fun-seizure?  Remember how, when you think back to it, your parents really just used that video to shut you up when they needed a free hour so they could go put the laundry away (which always took a surprisingly long time and was pretty noisy and, wasn't...wasn't the laundry still in the basement that one time you went down and checked)?  Well think if you could have access to that video at any time or place, wouldn't that be awesome?

Enter...the iPhone.  Ask me how many parents I have seen use it to calm their kid down while I listened to their tiny, but mighty hearts. Two hundred thousand.  In my 3 weeks of out patient pediatrics, I saw two hundred thousand parents use an iPhone to calm their child down.  I once saw an 18 month old unlock the phone, find her video and play it.  18 month olds can't draw a circle or hold in their pee and this one could operate a $200, flash drive powered, touch screen.  It's like the moms who lift a car to save their child, only instead of parents finding unbelievable amounts of strength to save the love of their life, these are kids that really fucking love those pious vegetables. It's the most underrated feature of an apple product yet.  Even more underrated than those really neato, neon, see-through macs they created a few years back.

Doc, I either A. Broke my radius B. Broke my ulna C. Broke my scaphoid or D. Broke my hamate, can you fix me?

Thanks to shelf exams, I feel very proficient in my ability to treat a case of Tylenol overdose if that patient gives me their story in under 1 minute and comes in holding 4 antidote drugs labeled A-D*, only one of which will work.


*Note:  If the past three patients all required drug B to treat them, and this patient is holding what I believe to be the correct drug name labeled as B, I cannot be held responsible for incorrectly treating them due to the Not Being Expected to Answer the Same Letter 4 Times in a Row, One of Them Must Totally Be Wrong Act of 1978.

Challenge: Describe anal sex without using the term anal and still sound professional

Me: "Do you have vaginal, oral or anal sex"
Patient: "Anal sex? What's that"
...
...
...
Blink
...
Me: "Uh"
...
Me: "You know vaginal sex?"
Patient: "Yeah"
Me: "Uh, the uh, other...one..." (extremely vague hand gestures)
Patient: "What?"
Me: "When you put it in the butt."
Patient: "Oh yeah, I definitely do that."

I put them in Penn binders, just in case I forget what school I attend

I still keep all of my notes just in case I want to go back and take medical school again.

Taste buddies

I need to start asking sales people more questions, just to get a better feel for what kind of person I'm dealing with.

Oh you like this messenger bag best? Well from our earlier discussion, you like Creed and think that Power Rangers was a better show than Ninja Turtles, take your shitty bag back to the backroom and find me something in a nice Raphael Red*.

*Note: other options for this joke would be: Michaelorangelo, Donaturple, Blue-onardo

Hi, I'm the medical student who is both working on your team and probably taking that bed next to you.

It's always fun when you walk into a patient's room after hearing they have some vague complaint like, "stomach pain", and, after 15 minutes of talking to them, you realize they likely have some massively contagious viral gastroenteritis that commonly starts with stomach pain only to turn into days of vicious diarrhea and frat worthy projectile vomiting.  Hmm, I see a blood pressure cuff machine, an oxygen tank with nasal cannula, where's the machine that turns back time so I can put on a mask and gown?

Gnomebody knows the trouble I've seen

I get all of my bullshit spam email between 1 and 4am.  It's not real spam, it's spam I deserve, Amazon, Borders, STA, things I actually signed up for. Things I will get for the rest of my life that will cause me no actual harm, but must be annoyingly eliminated every so often (not all together unlike herpes).  When they do come (the spam, not the herpes), it's always over night.  I inevitably wake up to 2-3 emails that have been dropped in my inbox while slumbering or beamed in at that exact second I turned to make a sandwich while drunk after the bars close.  It's like the Spam Gnome, waiting patiently behind that last tab for the perfect opportunity to swoop in and offer me free shipping.

(Or Gnome herpes.)

Y= (X squared), where X= the amount of links I can go through on the internet when I should be studying

I did it.  I hit the asymptote of internet procrastinating.  I hit the end and I'm staring off the edge.  I will tell the story, so it can live forever as my last words before I jump off the cliff and enter the procrastination matrix (where I will become Neo and dodge bullets of work, ride a ship of Youtube videos, and fight off hundreds of deadlines with a sign post).

I was searching for the tax form that one must fill out to live in this country and I couldn't remember the numbers.  I searched 1040, because I was fucking right (booyah!) and saw a wikipedia page on 1040.  I clicked on it, interested to see what words of wisdom wiki had about me and my finances, only to find a page on the year 1040.  It listed deaths, births, events, and some other random shit.  I thought to myself, ok, that's a pretty random year to have an entire page dedicated to, but maybe it's because it's a decade, what about 1041? Yep, on there.  Ok, 1341? The year the Queen's college was founded. 211? January- Cao Cao writes Rang Xian Zi Ming Ben Zhi Ling. But surely it can't...2084, the year that Total Recall is supposed to take place.  2158, the year the Central Bureaucracy was established in Futurama.  Tell my family I love them...

Go Green, recycle material!

I'm reposting this for the following reasons: 1) I like it 2) I have a test on Friday and don't have time to be bothered with new stuff 3) I like pancakes. 


"To treat sleep disorders, one large component is to improve sleep hygiene. This includes using the bed only for sleep and sex. Exercise helps too", which of course includes sex. I think I'm going to be the leading prescriber of sex. "To be taken twice daily. Once upon waking and once before bed. Taken either orally or through direct injection. Rectal administration is neither indicated, nor contraindicated. Side effects include feelings of awesomeness and babies. If sex lasts for more than four hours, consult your physician for high fives."

Miracle of strife: Part I

Pregnancy sucks.  There are a number of reasons for this statement, but I will focus on the actual delivery because it is more interesting (and comes free if takes more than 30 minutes).

Here you are, a 9 month pregnant chick, who has vomited for weeks, gained 40 lbs., feels like shit half the time, and has had to let the doctor shove her hand up your vagical play land more in under a year than I have in my whole life (because I don't have a vagical play land).  Then you finally hit your big day.  Haven't you?

Ok, the doctor told you if you are having contractions 5 min apart, come in.  Or if your water breaks.  Well you are having some constant pain, maybe it's getting worse every 5 minutes.  Or maybe it's not.  And you are leaking something.  Although with a person kicking your bladder with a force that could create a Chuck Norris joke, you may be just relieving yourself.

Maybe you should just go in.  It's 3:30am and it's all getting pretty bad, just go in.

So you go to Labor and Delivery Traige.  They put you on a monitor.  A monitor that has never proven to change outcomes (but has proven to put Lawyers' children through college), thereby confining you to a bed for the rest of the time you are in the hospital.  But that's a good thing because giving birth confined to a bed is natural.  As we all know, evolutionarily, those that walked around during their birthing experience were in severe danger of getting spotted by the predators already eating your pregnant neighbor who gave birth while staying still.

Then the doctor comes in, shoves her hand in your vagelina jolie, looks at the monitor, smears your personal, home-made goo on a slide and tells you to go home, you aren't in labor.  "Those" aren't contractions, those are pelvic pressure.  "That's" not your water, that's miracle of life vaginal secretions.  Now go home.

You go home. It gets worse.  You come back.  Monitor on, hand in vagelly bean, goo on slide, go home.  Day later.  Monitor, vag hand, goo slide, go. 4 days later.  Monvaggoo...pause, "You are in labor, congrats!  Get in a room."

You get placed in a room.  You can't eat, you can't get up, and it hurts like hell.  This continues for hours.  Every two hours, a doctor comes in (not your doctor by the way, he's at home sleeping) and shoves a hand up there, yanks it out, shakes her head and tells you it's only 4cm dilated.  This is devastating to you.  Mostly because you forgot how to convert centimeters to inches and can hear Mrs. Farmer laughing at you all the way from 7th grade.  Also you know that you need that number to be 10 or that baby ain't coming out. And that number is 4.

More Vagina Jokes Continued in Part 2

Things I've learned on Peds

I think there is a real deficiency in explaining things through puppets these days.  If it worked for words that begin with the letter R, why can't it work for health care or 1040's?  No Elmo, you don't have any kids, so you put a 0 on this line.

What a stool story!

I don't lie much anymore.  I have no real reason to lie.  I don't have to tell my parents where I just was (the library mom, I told you, we have a presentation and I needed to use the dewey decimal system).  I no longer have real homework, so I don't really have to tell someone about my fictitious, but embarrassing jock itch to get out of turning a paper in by 5pm.  And I've just started admitting I like Justin Timberlake.  So I really don't have many fibs to tell.  Therefore, currently, 95% of the lies I do tell are directly related to me getting away for 5 minutes so I can poo.

"Man, just saw a friend of mine from Chicago; he just started a Masters program here! Talked to him for like 7.23 minutes.  Crazy small world we have!"

"Sorry, my roommate called.  My fish just died.  Are my eyes still red from all the super sensitive crying I was just doing in the bathroom?"

"Sorry I'm late, my dog ate my ability to get here on time."

"He got so.........................................................."

When someone is trying to say a word, but it's not coming out, leaving that pause until they find their word, I literally hold my breath with theirs until the next word comes out.  I'm convinced you can kill me that way if you can just hold your breath for a beat longer than I can.  Or really can't find a synonym for, "outrageous".

Set your phasers on hilarious

My peds rotation has brought me to the conclusion that tazers are a bit barbaric when a long range tickle machine would most assuredly accomplish the same thing.

Beef with Beef

I'd give anything for a roast beef sandwich right now.  Well anything except walking 2 blocks and paying $6 for one.  But like, anything else.

Tweetle dee and tweetle dumb

I just started a Twitter account (because I don't respect myself anymore) and they gave me a rating of, "good" for my chosen password (apparently they don't have a rating of, "awesome").  Is security really that tight on Twitter?  Am I in danger of someone hacking into my Twitter account and falsely telling my friends I'm at the gym when I'm not?  Will everyone erroneously think that I loved Alice in Wonderland when I actually thought it was ok?  No...guys...don't! Don't meet me at Irish Pub at 9!  It's a trap!! For the love of God, man, don't fall for it! I won't be there until 10!!!

Consumer Right 1

I'm starting a new segment for Medically Challenged (yes I regret this name).  When I was in 8th grade consumer ed, we had to write a company a letter telling them what we thought about their product.  This often resulted in getting whatever complaint we had taken care of, a very apologetic and well crafted response, and shitloads of super awesome free stuff.  I've decided to start this back up with something I'm going to call, Consumer Right:

Dear Apple,

I have to say I have been very satisfied with my iPhone thus far.  It has helped me find the proper exit or bridge several times, settled numerous bets, and gotten me out of that sticky situation in rural Kentucky, you know the one. I still can't shake the smell of maple syrup.  Sure there have been some dropped calls, a glitch or two, and if you made me wait any longer to get picture texts, I was going to punch you right in your single button, but you got your act together and have really done a great Job (get it?  No.  Because you are humorless).

With all that said, I recently ran into a bit of a situation that is, and I don't want to sound too accusatory here, entirely your fault. 

I wrote the following message to a young lady in my life:

"Might be just you and me tonight unless your friends have something fun going on.  Want to do dinner and then back to my place for some Heroes?"

You wrote:

"Might be just you and me tonight unless your friends have something fun going on.  Want to do dinner and then back to my place for some Herpes?"

She is at the gym, you have around 45 minutes to fix this situation before she gets back.  I realize that I could probably rectify this situation myself with a follow up, corrective text, but I'm approaching my limit for the month.  Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Meat (I also regret this name)

Cornered

Cutting corners is great until you realize you are the one who is going to be dealing with your bullshit. Thanks Past Meat for being hungover and not organizing any of our notes. Now I have to go back and fix it. I would fire me if I didn't think that I could really use the work.

IUD, ironically DUI backwards* Part II

Continued from Part I

Some questions you might have at this point:

If it's so small and effective, how does it work?  Magic.  We really aren't sure, but it is proposed that it causes a local inflammation that confuses and incapacitates the sperm.  Kind of like a Nickelback concert.  The hormonal one has the same hormone as one of the hormones that is in every variation of The Pill, but it's only local so it doesn't work quite like The Pill.

Are there side effects? There are some side effects for sure.  If you have a current cervical infection, the placement of an IUD can lead to a pelvic infection.  But beyond the first 20 days, infection is very rare.  In fact, the hormonal option actually seems to decrease the rate of infections to the upper reproductive tract (i.e. your baby factory).  The hormonal one can cause spotting in between periods but usually this subsides by 6 months (this spotting is common in many birth control options).  The non-hormonal version can cause heavier bleeding, but again, usually subsides by 6 months.  The non-hormonal can also have some increased pain around menstruation, but this typically diminishes too.  It is possible to have the IUD expelled, which would obviously make it not that useful.  It's magical, but not that magical.  The risk isn't very high and you just check every month to make sure the strings are there.  It's also important to note that some beneficial effects of The Pill, decreased acne, decreased hair growth and the such, you don't get with an IUD.  On the flippy side, you don't get the bad parts of The Pill either, blood clots, etc.

How much does it cost?  Around $800.  That seems like a lot but let's do some math 800/(5years *12mo a year)= $13/month.  And for the nonhormonal one, $6.67/month.  Also, some insurance companies cover part or all.

But yo, I'm like super youngs now, and maybe want some babies on the late late, what happens then?  Get your provider to do the ol' pull out method.  Then do the ol' pull out method because your return to fertility (baby makin') is extremely quick, usually within a week (don't actually do the pull out method, that method sucks and is messy).  There are no long term effects on fertility provided there were no complications with the IUD's use.

So what's the problem, you ask?  There really isn't any. The real problem is it just doesn't seem to be popular here. My feeling is that people are just wary of something that other people aren't using when it comes to their bodies.  Women tend to hear about birth control from other women (friends, mom, those secret cult meetings I'm convinced exist) and the IUD isn't popular, so guess what? It isn't popular.

People get a little uncomfortable about having something sitting inside there (The "there" is a uterus.  It is next to a vagina.  Say it with me, "vagina". Now say, "penis".  Now put yo' hands in the air. Wave 'em like you just don't care, Peeenis! Vaagggiina!), even though it's extremely safe; safer than the pill (and much more effective, easier to use, and cheaper in the long run).  But people are pretty quick to have them removed.  15% ask to have it removed for irregular bleeding symptoms, even though, as mentioned, both kinds tend to subside by 6 months and the hormonal version actually decreases bleeding significantly and can even eliminate it (60% have no period after 5 years of use).  So obviously you need to choose for yourself.  And obviously you need to talk to your doctor about it, but if you are looking for cheap, easy, effective, long term birth control, an IUD just might be your guy.

I have one, and I'm loving it.

*you know, because both involve terrible mistakes and can lead to an 18 year loss of freedom when poorly handled.

IUD, ironically DUI backwards*

Women, the weight of the world is on you.  You hold the key to keeping the population (and thus the weight. Get it? You don't?  Oh you think it's a stupid joke?  Well what if that joke thinks YOUR stupid!!...I spelled "you're" wrong didn't I?) of this world down.  This is because the responsibility of birth control lays squarely on your uterus.  It's not fair and it's not right, but if you think about it, it's definitely right.  On the not fair side, we have the fact that the only male-responsible birth control option is condoms, and on the right side, we have the fact that guys fucking suck at taking care of condoms, let alone some pill or doctor's visit.  So even if there were a better male birth control option, the good lord knows we can't possibly trust those shit-head dudes to be in control of it.  In fact, historically, everything we have put males in control of has turned out pretty piss-poor.  We can't even get porn to be good and that's like, our thing.  Let's hope the recent equal opportunity employment  shows some returns soon.

Back to the subject at hand, birth control.  In 1971, a manufacturer came out with something called a "Dalkon Shield", which was an IUD  (or intrauterine device) that was extremely effective at blocking a dude's load of Dalkons.  Unfortunately, it had high infection rates and almost single handedly set the American birth control scene back far enough to be dependent on chastity belts.  This IUD debacle left a burning taste in America's mouth, and, well, their what-whats too, and since then, it has to be the most underutilized, underestimated, underappreciated device of all time. It's the William H. Macey of the contraception world.  And I think it too had a small scene in Jurassic Park III.

So what is this thing that I'm raving about?  Well it's a tiny T shaped instrument that gets placed in the uterus in a relatively easy and painless out patient procedure.  There are two kinds, one with a single hormone (a progestin) and one that has no hormones.  It sits up there with two strings hanging out of the cervix (not visible) that exist to ensure that it's still there and so that it can be easily removed when desired.

Let's see some stats.  It is the most widely used reversible birth control in the world (and basically unheard of in the US) with 156 million users in 2000. It's effectiveness is right around a 0.1% failure rate.  That puts it up there as equivelanent with a tubal ligation.  Let me repeat that.  Taking someone's anatomy and dismantling it has the same effectiveness as this device.  That is like saying it is as effective to bomb the Golden Gate bridge  to prevent people from crossing to San Francisco from Marin County (goddamn Marin Countyers) as it is to place an orange traffic cone in the middle of the road (the non-hormonal IUD is, in fact, orange).  The hormonal one lasts for 5 years (and don't tell no one, but supposedly data supports its use for 7) and the non-hormonal one lasts for 10 years (-cough12cough-).  It has no long term side-effects on fertility and is immediately reversible. It can even be used as a form of emergency contraception for up to 5 days after the deed.  Yeah.  That just happened.

Continued in Part II

*you know, because both involve terrible mistakes and can lead to an 18 year loss of freedom when poorly handled.

Interests: hiding from ghosts, attacking parking meters, feeding buildings

Whenever I see one of those narly, nut ball homeless people, with tinfoil in their hair, dragging a broken fax machine around by the cord like a dog, I love to think about what they were like in grade school. Were they the kid that ate paint? Or were they the one secretly popping the heads off the barbies?  I hope facebook allows us to find out one day.

Olimpics

I'm gonna say it.  It's not popular, and you're gonna boo and throw shit at me, but I'm gonna say it anyway.  The Olympics aren't that great (ducks a shoe).  Frankly, it's not really that fun to watch, it's just "cool" to like the olympics.


I think this is most evidenced by the fact that you can turn on the tv after 4 years, know tops 3 names for the entire two weeks and yet somehow you can tout your status as, "Olympic's Fanatic" with gusto.  "Oh this guy, he's the favorite, he got silver last time and trained really hard after his broken wrist when they said he wouldn't make it". Yo, I can fucking understand English too, the announcer just said that.  And let me guess, your favorite is the underdog American?  Or wait, no, this year, it's a Haitian.  


The fact that you can say, "I just like all the sports!", how is that ok in sports world? That would be like me saying yeah, I'm a huge pro sports fan.  I love it when those professionals get up there and are really professional at their sport.  With their amazing shots, and swings, and ability to Jai Alai real good.

Sometimes the sport is just them running for 2 hours.  You are cheering for the worst part of every other sport.  The part that happens in between the sport.  Or the ski jump.  How is that a sport?  It's a pissing contest.  Like...really.  Don't get me wrong, I would love to see who can jump the farthest in the world, and if I got the chance, I'd watch it live, but I would also love to see who can piss the farthest.  And I'd probably go see that live too.  But I don't need a massive ceremony and a big torch.  I need beer.  And maybe something with melted cheese on it.

"It's the everyman's sport."  Yeah of course it fucking is.  It has basketball and figure skating.  They cover all bases.  I'm suprised they haven't gotten the Food Network involved or had olympic Sex and the City trivia.

Let's just call it what it is.  You like it because it's every four years, which is sexy and abusive. You can't go wrong with the cheering, you don't know anyone from another country.  And no one can make you feel stupid because if you can pronounce a single foreign participant's name correctly, you can make the Sportscenteriest dude in your office seem like he quickly needs to learn some indy bands or no one will respect his uniqueness.  Here's to another 4 (2) year wait.

"Green effort". Or, "Jealous trying too hard".

Everytime I do something that is publicly disagreeable, even if no one cares and no one says a thing, I recite the justification for me being an asshole in my head.  I go through a whole fictitious argument:

"One large coffee?  For here or to go?"
"To go, thanks"
"You know, I see you in here every weekend and you stay for hours, you really should just get a cup for here, it will help with the green effort."
"Oh well every time I do, I bump the table and spill coffee on my notes, which sucks.  Plus I end up throwing the notes out so in the end I waste just as much paper."
"Good point"
"Yeah.  And really I am being green because I reuse the cup"
"Oh?  How so?"
"Well when I leave, I fill it with water and drink out of that for awhile.  Then later I cut it up and give it to a bird to use as a nest.  Then, after the bird dies, I climb the tree and recycle the paper.  Then, as I'm climbing down the tree, I plant another tree.  And the whole time I don't breath out carbon dioxide.  See?  I'm not an asshole.  I'm super green and everyone should like me."
"Don't worry, everyone does.  We knew why you were doing it, we just wanted to hear you say it because your logic is so sound, it's like music.  Plus your breath smells like a Vegan Prius."

I was put on time-out for 10 minutes. I will never forget. Ever.

I was just instructed on the definitive, evidence based, therapeutic dose for putting a child on a time-out.  Apparently (this is actually in my book), "1 minute per year of age, with a max of 5 minutes".  Anything over 5 minutes has been shown to cause life threatening pouting and rapid-response crayon drawings of meanie faces.

Blowing off some steam-building exercises

Work provides a really unique opportunity.  See you choose your friends, so you can't bitch about them too much.  Your family isn't a choice, but you kind of love them no matter what.  Now strangers can fuck with you and piss you off, but they are transient and not worth much energy.  But co-workers?  That's where you can really stretch your legs and do some serious, grade-A shit talking.

Got a quarter?

I have a pager.  So far I have received one page.  From me.  Trying to find my pager because I already lost it.

Hiro's Quest

I posted this on craigslist today after a week that can only be described as, "smarmy" in its demands of me.  If I could just time travel, I would deal with things that way, but I can't.  Fuck you, Unattainable Time Travel.*

*that dag ol' craigslist flagged and deleted this, so I'm reposting it here:

In need of someone to come by my house and work for a few days by taking over my life. I'm willing to pay $200/day for someone to dress like me and show up for a few shitty things I have to do over the next couple of days. Duties will include:

1) Trying to find a gift and place for dinner for Valentines Day. I think my girlfriend likes necklaces. I will provide access to her facebook profile to confirm.

2) Taking crap about a project that is done, but the project manager keeps thinking that there is something that needs to be fixed. For the days you are on duty, you will have to decipher his cryptic edits and turn them into a few sentences added and a few sentences deleted that, in the end, still say just about the exact same thing.

3) Finally fixing that shelf that you (I) vowed to take care of this weekend.

4) Answering emails and texts. Do not worry about answering the phone, I never do.


Perks include:

1) Getting to wear my clothes for a few days. For Christmas I got a really nice hat and glove set.

2) I would probably get drunk sometime this weekend, you may do that for me.

3) Although you may not sleep with my girlfriend, if she wants to hold hands, you can do that. She has soft skin.

4) Use of my smart phone. It has a cool background picture of a concert from when I was young and carefree and has an app for Sudoku that I bought for $.99.


I realize that for the hours worked, this is hardly a good hourly wage, but I think it's important to realize that you will really only do a max of maybe 3 hours real work in any given day.

Genie in a Speculum

I see so much vagina on OB/GYN.  It's one of those be careful what you wish for things.  "Oh you really want to see vagina?  All the time?  Here.  Here's a vagina, she's 52 and is having atrophic vaginitis.  And another one, this one's a 32 year old, 39 week pregnant woman who just broke her water.  Have them.  All the vagina you can ask for.  All you have to do is shove this terribly painful metal object inside them and they are yours to view.  They are in pain so you can visualize their parts.  Visualize them and evaluate them for disease. Is that what you wanted 13 year old Meat?  Is that what you wished for after you found your first Playboy?  MWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"  (Meat writhes in the corner of the exam room while the camera slowly zooms out and ominous music plays.)

Girl Goggles

I know what you're thinking, you're not like the other girls. They all suck at telling how hot another girl is, but not you, you're different. You grew up with 3 brothers.  You basically have a dick.  Dude, you'd totally bang Angelina if you got the chance. You can rate girls just like guys can. 


But no, you're wrong. You can't.  You suck at it.  All we are hearing from your "objective" assessment of her attractiveness is a subjective assessment of how much you like her. Now stop trying to set me up with your nice friends and invite annoying Jenn out.

Hair Drug For Men

My buddy started losing his hair when he was 20.  He was in denial for a year or so before the Ghost of Christmas Bald came to him, showed him the hair in his sink and a picture of James Carville, and the next day he was like "oh fuck no" and started on Finesteride (Propecia).  Finesteride is a really great drug that works by stopping the formation of a chemical derivative of testosterone that's only purpose in life seems to be to cause men's hair to fall out and their prostates to grow (earning this chemical the nickname, "The Cock Block", or in medical terms, "Cockblocksterone", which makes Finesteride the first pharmaceutical wingman.).  Finesteride has worked great for him and it has virtually halted his hair loss.  Its only downside, 70 bucks a month.  Although that is a relatively small price to pay to not be asked if you would, "like help carrying those groceries to the car" before age 30, as I think many men would agree, but unfortunately it's a lifer drug.  So, doing the math, he is paying $33,600 to not be bald by 60.  Suddenly a boob job isn't seeming so crazy, is it?

Novel Girl

Hey, look who it is! Another Sunday in the Library back-room? Me too. I brought you a coffee, figured you'd need it. I was gonna get lunch at 1, interested? No? Because we've never talked and in reality I'm just staring at you like I do every Sunday and you are a little creeped out by me? Yeah that's cool.  Maybe another time.