Thursday, March 31, 2005

Hamburger hunks vs the weeny burger boys

OK, now I want you Macho men out there to be sure to get yourself as many of those monster burgers as you can stuff yourselves with. Likewise, I want you girly men to eat a few of those huge suckers so that you can feel better about yourselves. Hardies knows that by appealing to your manhood, you will throw common sense to the wind and overdose your fragile egos with lots of their lard loaded cardiac arrest specials. That's alright with me, because you see, I work in a critical care unit at a hospital and my business depends on people like you. So, eat up. Most of you, unfortunately, will have children before your first heart attack hits, but hey, if they take after you, and they probably will, we will probably get them in here alot sooner, and make a lot more money off them before they too succumb to such clueless eating habits.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

The day I almost made it outta here......

Well, after 8 straight days off due to two vacation days and creative scheduling, I returned to work, and of course, hit the ground running. Well, first the good news. One of my patients was a Physician who used to make rounds in my unit a few years back, and, noting my work ethic, how I never seemed to stop moving....all those attributes you'd think my own employer would have noticed long ago, he insisted on hiring me for his own practice. Now, the bad news. He was admitted for "Altered Mental Status", and isn't going to remember my name, much less where he's been this last week, that is, if we can find out what contributed to his decline in the first place. Oh well, it was a good day regardless. Three old ladies flirted with me, my nurses thanked me effusively for my hard work, and I didn't get written up for anything. So when I headed for home that evening, I noticed a brightly full moon staring down at me, and it occurred to me that a full moon needn't always be a bad thing.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Twisted Metal

Well, I think I just had an epiphany........the secret to my marriages success! Seems my wife is enjoying the hell out of killing everything that moves in the mindlessly violent world of the Playstation game, Twisted Metal Black. And she is NOT a violent person. "I have one left, honey!", she tells me as she tracks down the last contestant.......... wonder if she's taking out all her angst, and believe me she's got her share, on this game rather than me? Not that I make an easy target, mind you, but it's nice to know she has a healthy (arguably, I agree) outlet. So, in the interest of marital bliss, kill them all, darling, kill them ALL! hehe

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Death with dignity?

Me and the wife are nervously watching the Terry Shiavo case. The right-to-lifers are damned determined to keep her alive, whether she ever wanted to exist like a tube-fed lump of flesh or not. We really need to attend to our living wills, before something happens to either one of us and the other tries to respect our wishes, which is to be let go when our time is up. But, if the republicans and religous right has it's way, the only way to die with dignity in this country will be to strap on some fake dynomite, paint Al-Quida across our chests, and rush the White House in our wheel chairs.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

The secret society

I have only just met Emily via her blog and already I feel like I'm part of a secret society.....tho why I would allow myself induction into any society that would have the likes of me as a member, God only knows. Her discertations upon the cultural nuances of French dating practices is certainly entertaining, and I fear I am to become addicted to her particular sort of soap opera. Until such time as it becomes necessary to block me from further comments, I shall add what I hope is appropriate commentary to her endeavors, and hope it bouys her sufficiently to continue with her excellent and entertaining work. Yes, I know, she did well before I discovered her, and will do well long after I have left. But, in the meantime, pass the popcorn, please.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

Anatomy of a Rant

Interesting thing about ranting. Your wife, God bless her, listens for at least two whole minutes before her eyes begin to glaze over. Her lack of rapt attention pulls the plug on your need to vent, and you sputter out, mumbling some closing argument to your brilliant observations before you slink off to imagine yourself kicking the dog, which thank God, you have no intention of doing.
It will probably take another twenty seven hours, easy, before the valve in your head wonders back into the red zone. In the meantime all is right within the four walls of your abode, if not the world.