Tag Archives: Bad days

TRIFECTA!

When I studied humor writing, I was taught something called “The Rule of Three.”

As the second deity in my holy research trinity, Wikipedia, says:

The rule of three is a writing principle that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers of things.[citation needed]

That is the only reason there are Three Stooges. Because two just wouldn’t be funny. Come to think of it, THREE haven’t been funny since I hit puberty. But still.

Anyway, the Rule of Three works. Three is funny.

So I was delighted this week to learn that the GOP has adopted the Rule of Three! Yes, It’s true. They are pushing the envelope for legislative giggles. Ba Da DUMB!

Google, Natch!

Google, Natch!

Have you been paying attention? Because here’s what happened just this week:

In the Ring on the Right, we have Michele Fiore, Majority Leader of the Nevada State Assembly who has a whole new take on cancer, cancer treatment and what is apparently cancer of her own mouth:

“If you have cancer, which I believe is a fungus, and we can put a pic line into your body and we’re flushing, let’s say, salt water, sodium cardonate [sic], through that line, and flushing out the fungus… These are some procedures that are not FDA-approved in America that are very inexpensive, cost-effective.”

Photo from Crooks and Liars.com

Michele standing up for freedom with Cliven Bundy’s gang. Yeh Haw! Photo from Crooks and Liars.com

It really is amazing just how inexpensive death can be — there aren’t even any copays!

As my Dad would have said, “There’s a fungus among us.” That line is the only thing I could think of to say in light of this previously unknown cancer disclosure. Thanks, Michele.

Deja vu!

Deja vu!

 

In the Other Right Hand Ring is Idaho Rep. Vito Barbieri (R) who showed once again how the GOP really, truly has no fucking clue about women – literally or figuratively.  Or anatomically.

It all happened at a hearing on Tele-medicine – there is a bill in the Idaho Legislature that would prohibit doctors from prescribing medications that can induce a miscarriage — an abortion — from doing so via telemedicine – an online consultation.   Have you seen how fucking BIG Idaho is?  Or how it is somewhat phallic looking?

As stated in the AP Article:

Dr. Julie Madsen, a physician who said she has provided various telemedicine services in Idaho, was testifying in opposition to the bill. She said some colonoscopy patients may swallow a small device to give doctors a closer look at parts of their colon.

Now wait for it.  Here it comes … Your turn, Rep Barbieri!:

“Can this same procedure then be done in a pregnancy? Swallowing a camera and helping the doctor determine what the situation is?” Barbieri asked.

Madsen replied that would be impossible because swallowed pills do not end up in the vagina.

Allow me to rephrase this:

A man who has been duly elected to office – in the United States of America which office grants him a certain measure of control over many things including women’s reproductive rights, does not understand that there is no direct link from the mouth to the uterus.

The AP article went on to state:

Barbieri later said that the question was rhetorical and intended to make a point.

I’m pretty sure that Rep Barbieri made THREE points:

  1. That he doesn’t know shit from shinola,
  2. That he should just dig a hole and crawl inside for the remainder of his life.
  3. He should try stand-up comedy because I have had too few good belly/vagina laughs lately. Until I read this.
You know where I got the stupid photo, already.

You know where I got the stupid photo, already.

Now you know how there is always a serious guy in the comedic trio? This circus of GOPers is no exception.

In the Other Other Right Ring:  Here is the MO of this trio: Idaho GOP state Rep. Christy Perry!

Christy, is (of course) a good Christian. Being a good Christian, she is “pro-life.” Well, as long as that life isn’t breathing oxygen on its own, anyway.

Because Ms. Perry is apparently pro-life only until a baby is born. Apparently she finds it perfectly OK for parents to deny their children medical care in the name of the Lord. For Religious Reasons. And, you know, for FREEDOM!

Remember at this point in the movie, they are removing his intestinal organs.  There is no camera inside there. No vagina either, come to think of it.

 

*     *     *

 

So you see, our GOP reps really have the world of comedy all figured out. Ain’t it a shame though, that they only know slapstick.

And ain’t it also a shame that we as a nation are always the ones who slip on that damn banana peel?  Because we are down on our asses until we get these folks out o’ Dodge.  And DC.  And out of your statehouse and mine.

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A Love (?) Story — Revisited

When I tell this story, I always have to put in a disclaimer.  Sort of like Dickens at the beginning of A Christmas Carol, when he says

“It must be understood that Marley was dead, otherwise nothing strange and wonderful could have happened.”

In this case, this fact must be understood:

I was really, really nice to everyone

Promise me you’ll remember that.

Once upon a time, I had a job at a law school.  The most fun job I’ve ever had.  I was the administrative assistant to a student organization, the BSA.  Pretty much the Boy Scouts of America, law school chapter.  The BSA members were 2nd and 3rd year students who did a lot to make the first year students happier during their (relatively miserable and difficult) first year.  They did orientation, taught legal writing, answered questions on where to go, what to do.  The office was large, with comfy chairs and a couch, a full free coffee pot.  A good, friendly place to hang out.  The members did, and so did a core of 1st years who, naturally, tried to become members for their 2nd and 3rd years.

It was a wonderful job.  Basically I answered questions and was nice to people.  Always.  A smile on my face, a laugh, a soft shoulder when needed.  It was easy to be nice in such a fun job.

Substantively, I had to know what was going on with the members’ various activities, because I was the one in the office when the 1st year students had questions.  I had to know what was going on to give the  answers.  Because that was my job.  The BSA members were all nice.  Except Monte.  He wasn’t.  He was a jerk.  Totally uncooperative.  He deserved that name.

Monte was in charge of a very important program that was one of two mandatory moot court programs for all 1st year students.  Essentially, it’s where they learned how to present and argue a case.  A whole case.  They write the briefs and argued the case in front of a panel of judges.  The students had a million questions, and they were also apprehensive, because it was an important part of their first year.  They asked ME all of those questions.

But Monte was in charge and wouldn’t let me know what was going on.  He wouldn’t answer my questions.  He wouldn’t keep me informed or involved.  I invariably had no answer to give to the poor student who really needed one.

Now, it might surprise you to know this, but I really hate to look stupid.  So one day I’d had enough of being unable to help, unable to answer questions I was supposed to answer.  Unable to do my job.  So I took Monte into the back room and politely explained in the nicest possible way, why he had to do things my way.

He responded, and I quote:

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”  And he left.

Me, except I’m blond. And in color.

To this very day I have never been so mad at anyone.

I went back to my desk fuming, steam coming out of my ears, angry tears, the works.  As I stood there, shaking mad, a tall, blond 1st year student entered the office, came up to me and said – oh I don’t remember what he said.  But it was a question about that program.  Monte’s program.

“I DON’T KNOW.  YOU WILL HAVE TO ASK MONTE WHO IS A COMPLETE JERK!” I screamed at the tall, completely innocent blond guy.

He stood there, put his hands on his hips, shook his head and left the office.  He never returned.

I remember it clearly.  Well, except all I can see in my memory is the outline of a tall, faceless blond guy.  Standing there, hands on his hips, shaking his head and clearly thinking “what a bitch she is not very helpful.”

John did not propose then and there.

In fact, we didn’t even cross paths again that we know about during the two years we were there together.  We met again in DC through a guy I was dating who worked with John.  Years after I broke up with the other guy, John asked me out after we met up again at a party.

Whenever someone asks us the “how did you two meet?” question, well, I make sure I tell the story.  Because John claims I fired nuclear weapons at him, which is a slight exaggeration.  And it makes me look bad.

Really, I didn’t shoot at him.

But hey, my husband can never claim that he didn’t know I could be a bitch.  And that has been worth its weight in gold (or nukes) for almost 30 years.

*    *    *

This is an old piece that I’m replaying for Valentine’s Day because, well, it’s one of my favorite “love” stories.  And because there are lots of new followers who didn’t read it.  If you already read it, you can stop here.  See?  I told you I was nice!

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Filed under Adult Traumas, Bat-shit crazy, Christmas Stories, Criminal Activity, Family, History, Holidays, Huh?, Humor, Law, Stupidity, Wild Beasts

The Funniest Ad I Have Ever Seen

I only hope my husband doesn’t think this would make an appropriate Valentine’s Day gift.

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Filed under Adult Traumas, Awards, Bat-shit crazy, Climate Change, Conspicuous consumption, Crohn's Disease, Disgustology, Family, Farts, Flatulence, Gun control, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, Huh?, Humor, Taking Care of Each Other, Wild Beasts

Eleven on the Eleventh

Just because I love this video:

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Filed under Adult Traumas, Bat-shit crazy, Huh?, Humor

Yup.

You know how they say one picture is worth a thousand words?

It’s true.

Credit:  Tastefully offensive

Credit: Tastefully offensive

I found this picture on The Last of the Milleniums today.  I often steal stuff from my buddy Father Kane.  Not all of them hit quite this close to home, though!

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Need Extra Cash?

Need extra cash?

OK, I guess that was a trick question because, well who doesn’t?

In keeping with my newly assumed role of bringing you all the news you need to know , I will give you this profitable tip.

The Washington Post is reporting that you can earn up to $13 K anually.  Anally.

You can sell your poop.

Poop transplants are a real treatment that I’ve read actual medical journal articles about.  The hypothesis is that our Western Culture (damn you McD’s!) has eliminated too much of the flora and fauna out of our GI tracts.  The result is lots of people like me with bowel disease.

So scientists are looking at all kinds of ways to help.

One of the latest ideas is to repopulate the good bacteria.  That’s the idea behind pro-biotics.  They put back the good bacteria that overuse of antibiotics and other hazards of Western life have, ummm, eliminated.

One of those ways is through poop transplants.  I kid you not.

At present, poop transplants are used only for treatment of poor suckers infected with c difficile* and e coli, particularly nasty bacteria that is really hard to get rid of.  They are studying it in bowel diseases like my Crohn’s and colitis, but they haven’t yet flushed out all the problem issues.

So if you are really healthy and have good aim, you can earn some bucks while doing your business.

Washington Post.  Notice how upright those treated people are

Washington Post. Notice how upright those treated people are

You know the worst thing about this for a Crohn’s patient?  The knowledge that this isn’t the worst treatment imaginable.  That goes to the one they were testing a few years ago under the same hypothesis — that our guts were too clean.  With that treatment, they had you drink worm larvae.  Yum.

Your Scientists

I wonder if the researchers know about the whale in my last post.

*Thanks to my pals Kate Crimmins and Carrie Rubin.  The article refs c diff; Ive read it is also used on e coli.  So much shit; so many uses.  So much money in the pot.

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Portable Self-Defense

Many years ago when I lived in a not terribly safe neighborhood in DC, two work colleagues/friends of mine were discussing safety precautions to be used in case we were ever assaulted.

“I heard that if someone tries to rape you,” Ellen said, “the best thing to do is to poop in your pants.  Nobody wants to rape a person with poopy pants”

“That won’t be hard for me to do,” I said.  “I can poop on command.”  My colitis-that-was-really-Crohn’s was raging in those days.  “Maybe I can sell some!”

Our colleague, John, got a mischievous look on his face.  “But what if you’ve just gone?” John asked.  He then stood up from his desk, and started grunting as if he were pooping.  “Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mr. Rapist.” John grunted some more, laughing. “I’m almost ready for you …  OK, NOW try to take me!”

We didn’t get a lot of work done those days.  But it was a valuable lesson in self-defense.

Sadly, Keri Wilk, an undersea photographer, wasn’t in the room with us.  Because that self-defense lesson might have come in handy for him just recently.  Because recently he learned that sometimes, a little poop can be the best defense.

You see, according to the article in the Huffington Post, photographer Keri Wilk had a crappy experience when he got up close and, ummm, personal, with a sperm whale.  Apparently Keri and his fellow divers made the whale a wee bit nervous.

While leading a group on an underwater whale photography expedition off the coast of the Caribbean island, Keri and four others were approached by what appeared to be a perfectly calm whale.

The whale approached them, stopped, pointed straight downward, and then in Keri’s words, “the storm began.”

If only Keri and his friends had given the poor whale a little privacy, well then, the storm might have been short-lived.  But noooooooooo.

Instead, Keri and friends experienced a “Poopnado.”

“At first, it seemed like a regular bowel movement… sperm whales are often seen defecating, especially while diving, so we didn’t think much of it initially. It pointed itself down, but then, rather than continuing its dive, it remained at the surface, continuing the bowel movement for a startling length of time,” explains Keri.

“The 4 of us looked at each other with confusion, then back at the whale, expecting that any second its call from nature would be ended, and that it would descend to the depths for another meal as they usually do. Instead, the whale bobbed up and down, spun around in circles, and waved poop in every direction for several minutes while 4 of us in the water sat back and watched!”

The minute by minute photos are pretty amusing, but I think you might just want to go to the full article rather than see that much poop on my blog site.  I do have my standards, you know.  Low as they may be.

The full spread of pictures is, ummm, more overwhelming.

There simply is no reason for you to bother reading the news.  Or watching it.  Because I promise you, if there is anything you need to know, anything at all, I will tell you about it.

Including things you didn’t even know you wanted to know about.

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