Unintentional Hiatus

I’ve been a little distracted by this thing called life.  Which means I have to act like a grown up and do grown up things.  I am tired of doing it.  I need to not have to think, do, or say grown up things for a little while.  I promise not to bark, though.

Unless I don’t get snacks.

Hell, Mary

Since my own deconversion, or conversion to agnostic atheism, or whatever you want to call it, I’ve developed a devilish(heh!) sense of humor as relates to religion.  Or sarcasm.  Or cynicism.  Or a blasphemous sense of humor.

Whatever you want to call it.

Tomato, tomahto.  It’s all the same thing.

So the other day a co-worker failed (again!) to turn in some paperwork that is vital to my job.  I playfully scolded him since I have no actual authority to properly scold him.

He tells me he’s sorry and he’ll try to do better(which is what he says each time).

“Don’t worry about it.  Just go say three hell Maries, throw some salt over your shoulder, and eat a piece of garlic.”

“Wait,” he says. Serious as a heart attack, “Are you Catholic?”

“No, my child, I serve no gods.”

The moment entirely lost on him, “Oh. Well, as long as you’re not Catholic.  You know, they’re not really Christian.”

“Yeah, well, neither are protestants. Besides, saying hell Mary isn’t the same thing as hail Mary. You, know, as in, ‘Hell, Mary, don’t do that again!’  And throwing salt over your shoulder and eating garlic have nothing to do with being Catholic.”

“So, what?  Do you belong to one of those non-denominational religions?”

“Only if being sacrilegious counts.”

The 2016 Primaries Solved

I’m not a Twit but a friend who is forwarded this to me.  If you’re having trouble figuring out who to vote for refer to this handy dandy flow chart!

 

Comedic Relief

There is a reason some dogs turn on their owners.  This would be one of them:

This is just wrong on so many levels.

The Republican Looney Toons

It would be funny if it weren’t true, but I need to laugh about it instead of cry. It’s Super Tuesday here in the U.S.A., folks. I found some old clips of the leading Republican Candidates at their best.  Here’s a compilation:

 

Donald Trump seems to be set to sweep the nomination using this platform:

 

Marco Rubio seeks to take him down using insults:

 

And Ted Cruz is preparing for his big chance:

 

If this is the best the Republican Party has and any one of them wins I think we can all say:

All’s well that ends well…

…I guess?

Maybe I’m reading this wrong but it just kind of sounds like if I type, “Amen,”  I might not see 2016.  As such I just couldn’t do it.

You Have Not Because You Ask Not

Apparently 51 year-old April Lee Yates didn’t pray hard enough.  According to WBTW News she dined out in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina Sunday night expecting Jesus Christ to pick up the tab.  When he didn’t show up with the cash in hand she was carted off to jail because she hadn’t the money to pay.

I wonder how many times Jesus has paid a dinner check for her.  She certainly expected him to come through for her.  She didn’t even do a proper dine-and-dash.  She sat there for four hours waiting on him.

Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

Under the Knife

I’ve been a little scarce.  There’s a reason for that.

I’ve had this sneaking suspicion that I had a hernia for a while.  A good while.  A couple of years.  But it was small.  Since I didn’t think it was life-threatening I just let it go.

Over the New Year’s holiday I undertook a little project and noticed that the longer I was on my feet that little lump became a large bulge.  Not good.  And it was tender.  But I could still put it back.

I did decide that maybe I might outta go to the doctor about it.  First of all to make sure that my self-diagnoses was accurate seeing how I got my P.H.D. from a Cracker Jack box.  Second of all to make sure that it wasn’t serious.

When I made the appointment the receptionist wanted to know the purpose of the visit.  “Well, I think I have a hernia.  I’ve got a bulge where there shouldn’t be one.” When I get there for the appointment I have to repeat it for the doctor.  Then I have to show him.  He touched it and said, “Hmm…yeah, that’s a hernia. Get dressed and I’ll be back.”

A few minutes later he returned to the room.  A wry smile comes over his face and he says, “That’s, um, impressive.  Can you put it back in?”

“Yes, I can put it back in.  I do it all the time.”

“It’s an inguinal hernia. You need to have surgery.  You need to do it before it becomes incarcerated.  If that happens it’ll be an emergency surgery.”

He refers me to a surgeon.

I’ve never had surgery before.  The surgeon asks me over and over again if I’ve had surgery.   He says this kind of hernia usually happens when someone has had a previous surgery, like an appendectomy or a hysterectomy, and the tissue covering the organs is weakened.

Nope.  All my parts are present and accounted for.  I’ve still got everything I came here with.

Long story short, last Wednesday I had a robot putting a patch over the hole in my peritoneum.  More specifically there was a surgeon using a joystick to put a patch over the hole in my peritoneum so my guts wouldn’t spill out.  Nice, huh?

I don’t remember much about the whole thing.  When I checked in they started a sleepy-time IV pronto.  Thirty minutes later they wheeled me to the o.r. I moved from the bed to the operating table and the last thing I remember was the anesthesiologist saying, “Now I’m going to give you some medicine…” I was out.  I didn’t even get to count backwards.

After the surgery I woke up in recovery and an hour or so later I was headed home. The nurse told me I should take my time getting up for a few days.  “Don’t just spring up, you might get dizzy and fall.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be springing anywhere for a day or two.”

Since I’ve never had any kind of surgery I had no idea what to expect for recovery.  I thought I’d be back to normal by Friday.  Did. Not. Happen.  But I’m pretty much there now. This is such a minor thing. It is minor, isn’t it?

Anyway, I did go back to work on Monday which I may get into a little trouble with the surgeon over. I have a desk job.  I can sit at a desk as well as I can sit on a couch.  Do you know what it’s like to sit on a couch?  For days?  B – o – r – i – n – g!   Ain’t nobody got time for that!