This Rare Disease is Amazing!

So, I've been recently (over a year now) diagnosed with Multiple System Atrophy.  It's a disease of exclusion, meaning that it's the doctor way of saying, "I don't fucking know.  Have you tried The 700 Club?"  But doctors aren't allowed to say, "I don't know" or they'll be forced to sit at the crappy table at the hospital cafeteria.  And the other doctors will be mean to them, like lowering the tire pressure in the offending doctor's Porsche all the way to the upper twenties.

I wrote all about this here and here.  It's been well over four years ago since I wrote those pieces.  In actuality I can probably trace the start of this thing way back to 07/08 when my alcohol tolerance started changing.

Q: Your tolerance began changing?

A: Didn't I just say that?

Q: You can't answer a question with a question. 

A: It's my fucking blog.  I can do anything I want.  Asshole.

Q: I don't like you. 

A: Opinions vary.  Next questioner.

Q: Your tolerance began changing?

A: Mainly my speech would become slurred way before it should. 

Q: Just how rare are we talking?

A: Fill up the Rose Bowl and besides me there may be a couple of other people there with it.  Even some doctors haven't heard of it and they are omniscient.

Q: So, tell me, what's it like to have a degenerative neurological disorder?

A: Oh it's super-amazing, like bacon-bits on a salad!  Maybe croutons.  Actually, it's like having a malevolent child running through my increasingly useless body, setting fires and plundering the community.  Kind of like that kid in that Twilight Zone episode.

Sports Person of the Year

Below is a picture of some sports equipment, or, jock things, as they are known in the community of jocks.

I have no idea why an umpire's mask is in the picture.  An umpire is a jock with math skills.  At any rate, it doesn't belong.  You don't care!

Anyway, we're here to present the immensely coveted Sports Person of the Year award.  Previous winners include Michael Vick (for kicking a dog the farthest) and Plaxico Burress for his name.  The thing that really impressed our judges was Plaxico shooting himself in the groin.

Without further adieu.  By the way what the hell is an adieu?

"There will be a short adieu in your flight."

"There's going to be an adieu in your surgery.  We can't find the doctor.  He must be on another bender."

But anyway, this year's immensely coveted Sports Person of the Year award goes to Tavoris Cloud.  Mr. Cloud is a professional boxer and according to Wikipedia, he had a "tough childhood."  But who cares.  The main thing is that he's got an incredible name.

First off, what the heck is a Tavoris?  Is it a cough suppressant?  Is it a dinosaur?  Secondly, the cloud is hot right now and we can't think of a better buzzword.

Dr. F-something

"We're going to put you in a wheel-barrow and leave you under that awning.  That way you can keep an eye on my new Mercedes."

Dr. F-something is a skinny Indian dude who always looks like he's midway through a 112 hour shift.  He never has anything good to say.

"You see, we're running dangerously close to hitting forty percent occupancy."

"Is my bed on fire?" I ask, plaintively.

"What are you doing with that hacksaw?  You're planning on cutting off one of my limbs, aren't you?  As long as I get some morphine, I guess it's okay," I say.

Dr. F-something flips through my chart.  He says, "How long have you been taking omeprazole?"

He stops flipping and stares directly into my eyes.  Judging from the look on his face I'm obviously having a pulmonary embolism.  I thought it would hurt more.  He stares for a couple seconds more, then says, "The bed fire can be extinguished with a pinch of baking soda."

"I read that on the internet," he adds.

Just then Dr. McQueen runs in.  He is on a butterfly hunt.  The rare creature lands on my nose and Dr. McQueen's net drops over my head.

"This will look great in my den next to the turtle," he says.

Dr. F-something and I intently watch McQueen reach into the net (and the end of my nose), grab the butterfly by the legs, and run out as quickly as he ran in.

"I need your arms for my Halloween costume.  It'll be hilarious.  And your legs go to a friend of mine, Dr. Strangelove."

Comedy Comes From Pain

So, I tried killing myself the other day.  There I said it.  The back story is another fall and this time a broken hip.  But I got a nifty corner room with electric draperies in the hospital and they rebuilt my hip with surplus NASA materials.

Since I don't keep a handgun in the house (or I would have turned it on myself years ago), the problem became a question of just how to do it.  I used to have a verbose description of the methods open to me, but that read all fucked up so I deleted it.  Let's just say my method was amazing, fun, and it involved an Oprah movie.

Here's a couple links that made sense for inclusion yesterday.  299 Words,  A Day.

Exclamation Point

Let's examine the exclamation point, shall we?  It's the Ranch dressing of the punctuation world.  It's like croutons on a salad.

It livens up any bland statement.  Please see the following for some real world examples of statement livening.

"The jury found the teen guilty.  They sentenced him to death."

Pretty drab.  Now see what happens when we add an exclamation point. 

"The jury found the teen guilty.  They sentenced him to death!"

Other examples of an exclamation point bringing a sentence to life:

"The plane crash killed everybody on board!"

"I have a sexually transmitted disease!"

It can also be used to show sarcasm. 

"Your new haircut is nifty!"

"This potato salad is really good!"

The versatility of the exclamation point is almost as good as this bottle of vodka.  Feeling blue?  Let's add an exclamation point to your sentences!  Still feeling down?  Have a glass of vodka.

This Life is Beyond Wonderful!

Today I examine a Christmas classic.  Rocky, of the liquor store, also sells deeply discounted DVDs, and I couldn't justify buying the actual movie, "It's a Wonderful Life," so I picked up, "Henry Potter and the Financial Crisis."  He assured me that it was "just as good" as a real Harry Potter movie and the bottle of vodka was inexpensive too.  So, it was a "win-win" situation.

This follows the day-to-day activities of Henry Potter, who owns a payday loan store.  Instead of a wand he points a pen at customers, and growls things like, "Where's my fucking money, you fucking deadbeat?  And tell your fucking kids to stop looking at me."

Sometimes he growls at employees to, saying things like, "The fucking line at your window is backing up you fucking dumb-ass."

Despite Potter's surly disposition, he proves to be an important source of liquidity during the financial crisis brought on by the reckless practices of George Bailey, owner of Bailey Financial Group, played by an obviously drunken Jimmy Stewart.

He made dangerous sub-prime loans all over Bedford Falls and then insured them, telling his banker pals during one of his extensive Martini lunches, "What could possibly go wrong?"

He decides to jump off a bridge (which seems totally reasonable - given that he has nearly destroyed the economy of Bedford Falls) but is accidently saved by a guardian angel, who thought Bailey was somebody else.  The angel says, "Goddammit, you're not Paulson!  I'm in the shit now."

The movie then plods along for two more hours.  I could have done without the lengthy (and graphic) domestic violence scene.  Luckily I had this bottle of vodka.  I feel ripped off and won't be getting anymore movies from the liquor store.

Binder Clip

Today I examine the binder clip.  Because Steve is in the jail laundry room fighting off the advances of Bogs, I'm fresh out of ideas.  Steve was the idea man, as well as the expert photographer.  So, I started opening cabinets, came across a box of binder clips, and shouted, "Eureka!"

My buxom office assistant Jenna came rushing in, broke a heel, and said, "What is it Mr. Thornhill?"

"You broke a heel."

"Yeah I know.  What should I do, Mr. Thornhill?"

"I think you should take your shirt off."

"If you say so Mr. Thornhill."

Jenna sat on the corner of my mahogany desk and started unbuttoning her shirt -

Oh, wait, that didn't actually happen quite that way.  What actually happened was I opened a cabinet and came across this box of binder clips that I took from my last job.  I shouted, "I guess that will do."

The lady upstairs said, "What?"

I politely replied, "Nothing, you disgusting bitch-hole."

Anyway, I wish I still had that job.  It was pretty cushy.  It's a shame but I got fired for allegedly stealing office supplies.  What a fucking injustice that was.

So, let's examine the binder clip.  It's for attaching a lot of papers together - when there are too many for a paper clip.  They come in different sizes too.  That's about all there is to say about binder clips.