Get Fixed the Easy Way!

I'm on a very weird mailing list. I get catalogs for stuff like this:

It's a replica of a pound of fat. How fun! I can also order pens that look just like hypodermic needles. I am so lucky to be on this list.

Today I got a medical book supply catalog. Did you know that there's a book called "Alarming Signs & Symptoms"? I can just picture someone with a giant, pulsating growth the size of a cantalope lying on an exam table while a very calm nurse checks this handy reference guide.
My favorite is "Cardiovascular Care Made Incredibly Easy." Not just easy, but incredibly easy. You know what shouldn't be oversimplified? Cardiovascular care. Now if I'm ever having chest pains, I'm going to have to ask if my doctor has read"Cardiovascular Care Made Incredibly Easy." If the answer is "yes," it might be time for a new doctor.

Photo Friday: Bad Hair

When I saw this week's assignment, I didn't know where to begin. I've had so many bad hairstyles throughout the years; it's really hard to narrow it down. You see, I have naturally curly hair. And I grew up in the 80's. It was a powerful combination.


The picture to the right shows me in my Miami Vice phase. In the absence of a white blazer, a white button-down shirt would do the trick. The picture also features my toothpick bridge, which qualified me for the finals at the state Science Olympiad. I was soooo cool. My bridge could hold well more than the recommended one brick. Unfortunately the bridge itself was pretty heavy, which subtracted some points, and I lost, thus dashing my future as a structural engineer.

In the next picture, I was in the awkward regrowth phase after my "I want to be Annie Lennox, so I'm going to get a crewcut and dye my hair" episode. Perhaps in an act of revenge against my mother, my grandmother took me to get the crewcut, without my mother's knowledge. Not only did I have bad hair, I also sported bad earrings, bad clothes, and, apparently, a bad attitude. Outta my way, or I'll get all Material Girl on your ass! If that doesn't work, I'll bonk you on the head with my big pink earrings.

You Get More For Your Money With Peter Pan

I was watching the news this evening and heard that Peter Pan is recalling a bunch of peanut butter for possible salmonella contamination. I checked our gargantuan 6-pound tub of peanut butter, only to find that we had one of the recalled batches! We buy the big tubs of peanut butter for the dogs (they get a sterilized bone with yogurt and peanut butter, frozen overnight, for a snack); thankfully they haven't gotten sick.

I went to the ConAgra website for more information, and found what could be seen as an unfortunate statement. Maybe you don't want to advertise yourself as "The Right Kind of Food Company" when you're issuing a News Release about salmonella contamination. But what do I know about timing?

Warming the Cockles of Your Heart, One Weird Card at a Time

Surprise! I'm a giant mutant heart-head, and I want you to be my valentine!

To view this and other peculiar Valentine's cards of yesteryear, point your browser to Cap'n Wacky's Unfortunate Valentine's Card collection. I was alerted to this site by an otherwise non-creepy coworker.

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll feel a little unsafe.

ps. Is that a nose or a pulmonary valve? So many questions...

Anna Nicole Smith Exclusive (or, Not Without My Uterus)

I just wanted to let you all know that I am the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby.
Sure, all these other fellows "had relations" with her, but if seemingly everyone else can throw their hats in the ring, why can't I? Just because my uterus has provided me with an exceptionally low sperm count, I don't see why I should be excluded from the hoopla.



Also, on a semi-related note, I would like to put forth my very own conspiracy theory regarding Anna Nicole Smith's death. I figured someone would bring this up by now, but apparently it is my responsibility to waste valuable minutes thinking about this. Why has no one asked whether or not her death was related to Trimspa? I read that Trimspa has stopped listing ingredients on its bottles, instead opting for something vague like "our exclusive x32 formula."
I did find a listing of the ingredients, as many "health supplement" sites post it. You'd think someone might be looking to see if some of the ingredients might be harmful in large doses, or perhaps interact badly with certain prescription medications. However, I find that if a phrase is prefaced by "You'd think that..." -- whatever follows is sure to not happen. For example, we have Transitions lenses for our glasses. You'd think that they'd come up with something similar for car windsheilds. Or, we've known that fossil fuels are in limited supplies. You'd think that we'd be driving poop-powered cars by now. Again, I am left to waste valuable minutes solving the world's problems with nary a thank-you. You'd think that I'd have a nobel prize in crankiness by now.

Photo Friday: Your Favorite Place

This week's Photo Friday theme is "Your Favorite Place." Or, in this case, my favorite place. This was a pretty easy one. Unlike my other Photo Friday posts, I did not, as you can see, take this picture (our Sony DSC-S45 would have to have one hell of a wide angle lens).



Maine is my favorite place. Conveniently, it's also where I live. Whenever we go somewhere (we rarely venture accross state lines), it's always great to drive across the bridge and see the "Welcome to Maine" sign.

Maine used to have this ridiculous sign for those exiting the state. It said "If your business were in Maine, you'd be home now." I understand the point behind it, but we used to joke that it said "If your business were in Maine, your business would be in Maine." Well, we thought it was funny, anyway...

We may have below-average incomes and high taxes, but it sure is pretty here! Plus, there are no billboards. Whenever I'm in a state that allows billboards, I'm always reminded of how glad I am that Maine's roadsides have trees, and not giant blinking advertisements. Ayuh.

The Beat Goes On...the Wall

I thought I would share with you my recent decorating inspiration.
I love albums. Something about the sound of a record appeals to me. However, I do not have a record player. Next best thing to listening to albums? Looking at them.
Please note that the CD shelf is perfectly level. This was no easy task.



I wasn't excited about the proximity of the smoke detector (that's what the white thing is...it's not one of those children's records that you have to play on a special record player).

Brooke was at first a bit apprehensive about my placement of the albums, as they are not perfectly symmetrical. I like the lack of symmetry, and think she's okay with it now. I believe what completed the entire piece was the 45 of the Bee Gee's "Jive Talkin." Now we're talkin'.

From Sir with Love

So, I went to a conference in Amherst, MA yesterday. I was driving home, and by around 6 pm I was feeling pretty hungry, so I stopped at one of those rest stop/service stations along the highway. Since I'd had a lot of water on the drive, I stopped in the bathroom to pee first. Exciting, no?

I exit the bathroom, which for most people doesn't cause much of a stir. But of course I am not most people. As I walked out the bathroom door, an older woman looked at me, stopped, and said, "oh!" -- and appeared startled. She looked at me, and looked at the "Women" sign on the bathroom door I had just exited. To her, it just didn't compute. Why was this man coming out of the women's room? What is this world coming to? I think she *may* have figured out that I wasn't a man, but she was still visibly startled.

If a short-haired lesbian is the scariest thing you run into at a roadside rest stop, you're not looking around enough.