And It Turns Your Urine Blue

Dad's out of ICU and doing well, other than being disgusted by the hospital food.

My older sister didn't visit today because she is sick. This despite taking some of that Airborne stuff. How is that possible? That stuff was formulated by a 2nd grade teacher! Who knows germs better than a 2nd grade teacher? How about a 1st grade teacher? How about anybody who took a semester of college biology?

And it has natural ingredients! Can I just point out that everyday I'm flushing natural ingredients. Also, ricin, a lethal poison, is naturally found in castor beans. How did the word "natural" become synonymous with "healthy"?

Why do people spend money on this snake oil? I will tell you why.

Because it's fizzy. People like fizzy.

Happy New Year

Maybe It's Mulva

My mom and my sister have been staying at a hotel near the hospital that my dad is at. There was some discussion of my mom not staying there tonight because of my sister's snoring. The conversation went something like this:

Mom: Well, it's your snoring.
Sister: I snore because I breathe through my mouth.
Dad: Maybe your vulva's in the way.
Sister: What!?
Dad: Your vulva. Maybe the air can't get past it.
(I missed something at this point because I was hysterical with laughter.)
Dad: That thingee at the back of your throat.
Sister: Da-a-ad. That's your uvula.

Later, after the shift change, the night nurse came in. My dad noted that she was there the previous night.

Dad (to nurse): I'm sorry but I forgot your name. I know it started with an M.
Nurse: An M?
Dad: What is it again?
Nurse: Beryl.
Dad: Well, that's close.
Nurse (laughing): How is that close?
Dad: Uhm.....Beryl is my favorite nurse. Did I tell you how nice Beryl is?
Nurse: OK. We'll let that one slide.

Fastest Way To A Man's Heart

Everyone deals with things in different ways. Tomorrow, my dad is having open heart surgery. Here are some of the reactions so far:

• Positivity ("He'll be fine.")
• Empathy ("My grandpa just had that done.")
• Apologizing ("Oh, I'm so sorry!")
• Crying
• Praying
• Mothering ("Should you be eating that before your surgery?")
• Controlling ("Here's what you must do...")
• Supporting ("What can I do to help?")
• Data mining ("Did you know the mortality rate for bypass surgery is only 0.2%?")
• and, of course, Humor ("No. I didn't. But I assume if it was much higher you wouldn't be telling what it was.")

Unfortunately, my favorite will be off limits around Dad; at least until we're sure those stitches will hold.

A Horse Doesn't Change Its Spots

Going in for major surgery, you'd think that being able to hear correctly might come in handy. Where does it hurt? Which foot are we taking off? So, you're here for your sex change? It would be good to answer those correctly.

Me: Did Mom get her appointment changed?
Dad: Mom got on an airplane???

I wonder if he has actually lost his hearing do to some physical problem or maybe it a psychological response to conversations like this:

Mom (watching CNBC): This stock is down from about 15 to less than 5 today.
Me: The results didn't look good with their drug.
Mom: They're probably a one horse pony.

Does my dad really need a triple-bypass? Or did they tell him just tell him he had "a ripply ass"? I sure hope those doctors have all their ducks in a goose.

A Christmas Story

No lighters. Here we go again. Why do people always bring lighters to the airport? Don't they know all the rules?

On the other hand, I am prepared. I have all my liquids in my zip top bag, out and ready to go.

TSA: That toothpaste is too big.
Me: huh?
TSA: I know there's hardly anything in it but the tube is too big.
Me: wha?
TSA: Do you want to take it back and check it.
Me: Uhm, no, just chuck it.

Then he eyes my deodorant. A daymare overcomes me as deodorant is banned from planes. That would be enough, the last straw. Americans will put up the pat downs and the cavity searches but we will not put up with-The Stink. What are we anyway? French?

TSA: Your bag is too big.
Me: My bag?
TSA: You're only allowed a quart-sized bag.
Me: Isn't that quart-sized?
TSA: No. This is a gallon. (he weighs it in his eyes) At least.

Now I'm getting nervous. The bag only holds my deodorant. Is he going to make me throw it away? If so, can I ask to use it one more time because I'm feeling a little sweaty. Is that White Christmas playing over the PA or the theme from Midnight Express?

I got off with a warning.

Arriving in Florida, I went with my parents for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner.

Chinese food.

Eat Sh*t And Have A Merry Christmas

Read closely. He is not the great defeater. He is not the great defector. He is El Caganer, the great defecator. And he can be found defecating in Nativity scenes and on mantle pieces throughout the Catalan region of Spain.

Nothing says "fertility and health" like a great big dump. And what could possibly more complimentary than associating you Lord and Savior with a true Yule Log?

Not only that but "pastry shops around Catalonia sell sweets shaped like feces". You think your sh*t don't stink? Well, it does. Stinks like chocolate and caramel. Or maybe marzipan.

Hey, Javier's crap is bigger than my crap.
No it's not, Paulo.
Liar!
You both have the same size crap. Now stop fighting or I'll eat them and you won't get sh*t.

"[...] on Christmas Eve Catalan children beat a hollow log, called the tio, packed with holiday gifts, singing a song that urges it to defecate presents out the other end."

Many a night I have beat the hollow log until "presents" emerged from the end. Then I carefully wrap the presents in tissue paper...well, tissues,...and hide them where nobody can find them at the bottom of the garbage can.

Oh Yeah! Right There, Christmas Tree

This week on Mythbusters, they tested various methods of keeping the needles on your Christmas tree. The most interesting was adding a crushed Viagra (which, "because kids might be watching" they variously referred to as "Santa's little helper", "Daddy's little helper" and "Mommy's little helper") to the water. Incredibly, this was one of the best at keeping the needles on the tree for the six week test. Unfortunately, the tree turned a sickly color during this time. I'm sure you would too if you kept the needle on your tree for six weeks.

The absolute winner for keeping the needles on was adding bleach to the water. However, this suffered a similar problem of turning the tree a funny color. Although similar to "Santa's little helper" I would warn against you trying to use bleach to turn your softwood into hardwood.

The overall needles-on/color-good winner was: spraying your entire tree with extremely flammable hair spray. Now, combine the hair spray with this* and you've got yourself a winning combo.

(* - Thanks Zimbo!)