Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Crazy eBay Mom
Truly unbelievable set of photos with running dialog.
I was impressed, to say the least !
http://www.macophilia.de/crazy-ebay-mom/
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Some practical advice on creating a Living Will .....LOL
A living will is a legal document that provides directives for your medical care in the event that you are physically unable to express them. Here are some things to keep in mind while creating a living will:
It's important to have a lawyer present when you draft a living will, as it makes the desire to be dead that much more tangible.
Specify which flavor of feeding-tube nutrient you prefer. Otherwise, you may get stuck with cream of mushroom day in and day out.
If, in the event of a catastrophic brain injury, you wish to be taken off life support and kept out of the guardianship of your overprotective Catholic parents, underline those directives over and over with a thick red pen and then highlight them in bright yellow.
Leave at least one reasonably flattering photo for the press. This point cannot be emphasized enough.
Explain in no uncertain terms that, should you die and return as a zombie, loved ones must shoot you in the head without hesitation.
Research medical life-support technology and specify whether you'd prefer to be hooked up to a Danninger Continuous Passive Motion device, an Emerson suction unit, or a Slushee machine.
Comatose people have been shown to exhibit a brainstem-level response to music, so prepare a decade's worth of mix tapes in advance.
A living will is a great way to meet a notary public, if notaries public are your thing.
A health-care agent is the person assigned to make your medical decisions in the event you are unable to. A talented, aggressive health-care agent will score you the absolute best medical care available, but will charge you a 15- to 20-percent commission.
Telling your friends while you're drunk that it would suck to be on life support doesn't constitute a living will. Make sure to write it on the back of a coaster.
Don't underestimate how quickly your family, including your beloved wife and two cherubic children, will tire of the burden you will become.
If you choose to remain on life support indefinitely, make sure your family is legally restricted from dressing you up as a corporate mascot and renting you out for parties.
It's important to have a lawyer present when you draft a living will, as it makes the desire to be dead that much more tangible.
Specify which flavor of feeding-tube nutrient you prefer. Otherwise, you may get stuck with cream of mushroom day in and day out.
If, in the event of a catastrophic brain injury, you wish to be taken off life support and kept out of the guardianship of your overprotective Catholic parents, underline those directives over and over with a thick red pen and then highlight them in bright yellow.
Leave at least one reasonably flattering photo for the press. This point cannot be emphasized enough.
Explain in no uncertain terms that, should you die and return as a zombie, loved ones must shoot you in the head without hesitation.
Research medical life-support technology and specify whether you'd prefer to be hooked up to a Danninger Continuous Passive Motion device, an Emerson suction unit, or a Slushee machine.
Comatose people have been shown to exhibit a brainstem-level response to music, so prepare a decade's worth of mix tapes in advance.
A living will is a great way to meet a notary public, if notaries public are your thing.
A health-care agent is the person assigned to make your medical decisions in the event you are unable to. A talented, aggressive health-care agent will score you the absolute best medical care available, but will charge you a 15- to 20-percent commission.
Telling your friends while you're drunk that it would suck to be on life support doesn't constitute a living will. Make sure to write it on the back of a coaster.
Don't underestimate how quickly your family, including your beloved wife and two cherubic children, will tire of the burden you will become.
If you choose to remain on life support indefinitely, make sure your family is legally restricted from dressing you up as a corporate mascot and renting you out for parties.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
The Great 6th Grade Incident
The Great 6th Grade Shit Incident
Time Period : Circa 1986
This is pretty sick.
I went to grade school at S.E. Gross school in Brookfield, Illinois. The second floor, in 1986 at least, was home to grades 4 through 6. For some reason most of the teachers saw going to the bathroom in the middle of class as some kind of weakness and all but forbade us to do so. Of course, if the situation were dire enough, considerations would be made.
Such was the case with a young boy named Dave who couldn't hold it in one day. We were in Mr. Arscott's social studies class when Dave had to be excused about twenty minutes before the end of the hour. It must have been an emergency because he scurried out of there at top speed, carrying whatever ridiculous item was being used as a hall pass for discouraging such mid-class breaks. I think it was either a yardstick or a very big book.
By the end of class Dave hadn't returned. When the bell rang, Mr. Arscott suggested we go to the bathroom to check on Dave's "progress". Back in those days, in Brookfield, it was unheard of for someone to "ditch" class. If a kid didn't show up it was because he was sick, or at least faking it. Nobody had the balls to just not show up without their parents knowing about it or to just leave in the middle of the day. The police were vigilant about busting truant kids. I was once stopped by the police as I left school early to meet my dad to go fishing.
So we leave the classroom and round the corner to where the bathroom is. It was me, Nick Torno, Sheldon, and a couple others. Right away a foul, evil odor was lingering in the hallway. We could hear a low, guttural rumbling followed by an echoed pop and splash. A young man's voice began to whimper... "ooooohh.... ooooowww.... oh god....". Upon opening the door we smelled the sharp, acidic sting of a nasty bowel movement.
"Get the nurse!" Dave cried out.
Now, one interesting thing about boys toilet stalls is that they had no doors, except for one stall at the end that we believe was left intact for the teachers to use. Dave wasn't in that stall. He had emptied the contents of what I assume was most of his body into the first toilet on the end, presumably because it was closest to the door and he was in apparent need of fast relief. However, he had plugged up that stall with wad after wad of toilet paper, perhaps used while trying to wipe away whatever form of Alien blood was dissolving his ass.
Oddly enough, I remember those toilets for their insane ability to handle such obstructions. But, Dave had clogged this one, and it was spilling over. But he wasn't done yet and had to move to the next stall. When we arrived he was already in the process of clogging the second stall in line.
The water from the toilet, complete with the fresh sewage and toilet paper that Dave had deposited, were slowly creeping toward the door. Immediately Nick Torno leapt up and grabbed the framework of the door, hovering over the growing puddle of filth. He swung himself out the door a safe distance from the rising tide of tush mush.
"Get the nurse!" Dave cried again. His screams fell on deaf, and laughing, ears as we simply proceeded to crack up. Eventually, Dave found himself dragging his frail frame down the hallway, and as legend had it his pants were still down, a fountain of feces spraying from his ass, as we continued to laugh and point and mock.
In reality, that wasn't so far from the truth. I remember the flood of toilet water. I remember his cries of "get the nurse!". I remember him using two stalls. And yes, there was even some residual "streaking" in the hall from when Dave made his way to the nurses office. But what really ties the whole thing together is the surreal image of Dave crawling down the hall, pants down, shit spraying, and all of us just laughing. It may not be true, but it set the bar for the level of cruelty and torment that we would unleash upon each other in the years to come.
Oh yeah... Dave was fine.
I think.
Time Period : Circa 1986
This is pretty sick.
I went to grade school at S.E. Gross school in Brookfield, Illinois. The second floor, in 1986 at least, was home to grades 4 through 6. For some reason most of the teachers saw going to the bathroom in the middle of class as some kind of weakness and all but forbade us to do so. Of course, if the situation were dire enough, considerations would be made.
Such was the case with a young boy named Dave who couldn't hold it in one day. We were in Mr. Arscott's social studies class when Dave had to be excused about twenty minutes before the end of the hour. It must have been an emergency because he scurried out of there at top speed, carrying whatever ridiculous item was being used as a hall pass for discouraging such mid-class breaks. I think it was either a yardstick or a very big book.
By the end of class Dave hadn't returned. When the bell rang, Mr. Arscott suggested we go to the bathroom to check on Dave's "progress". Back in those days, in Brookfield, it was unheard of for someone to "ditch" class. If a kid didn't show up it was because he was sick, or at least faking it. Nobody had the balls to just not show up without their parents knowing about it or to just leave in the middle of the day. The police were vigilant about busting truant kids. I was once stopped by the police as I left school early to meet my dad to go fishing.
So we leave the classroom and round the corner to where the bathroom is. It was me, Nick Torno, Sheldon, and a couple others. Right away a foul, evil odor was lingering in the hallway. We could hear a low, guttural rumbling followed by an echoed pop and splash. A young man's voice began to whimper... "ooooohh.... ooooowww.... oh god....". Upon opening the door we smelled the sharp, acidic sting of a nasty bowel movement.
"Get the nurse!" Dave cried out.
Now, one interesting thing about boys toilet stalls is that they had no doors, except for one stall at the end that we believe was left intact for the teachers to use. Dave wasn't in that stall. He had emptied the contents of what I assume was most of his body into the first toilet on the end, presumably because it was closest to the door and he was in apparent need of fast relief. However, he had plugged up that stall with wad after wad of toilet paper, perhaps used while trying to wipe away whatever form of Alien blood was dissolving his ass.
Oddly enough, I remember those toilets for their insane ability to handle such obstructions. But, Dave had clogged this one, and it was spilling over. But he wasn't done yet and had to move to the next stall. When we arrived he was already in the process of clogging the second stall in line.
The water from the toilet, complete with the fresh sewage and toilet paper that Dave had deposited, were slowly creeping toward the door. Immediately Nick Torno leapt up and grabbed the framework of the door, hovering over the growing puddle of filth. He swung himself out the door a safe distance from the rising tide of tush mush.
"Get the nurse!" Dave cried again. His screams fell on deaf, and laughing, ears as we simply proceeded to crack up. Eventually, Dave found himself dragging his frail frame down the hallway, and as legend had it his pants were still down, a fountain of feces spraying from his ass, as we continued to laugh and point and mock.
In reality, that wasn't so far from the truth. I remember the flood of toilet water. I remember his cries of "get the nurse!". I remember him using two stalls. And yes, there was even some residual "streaking" in the hall from when Dave made his way to the nurses office. But what really ties the whole thing together is the surreal image of Dave crawling down the hall, pants down, shit spraying, and all of us just laughing. It may not be true, but it set the bar for the level of cruelty and torment that we would unleash upon each other in the years to come.
Oh yeah... Dave was fine.
I think.
