I must say, Trauma: Life in the E.R. is, quite possibly, the coolest show ever. Twenty minutes into this episode, and I have already seen the medical folks give a chest tube, do emergency surgery on this dude’s liver, stitch up a kid’s face, admit an old fellow with bleeding ulcers, deliver a baby in a car in the E.R. parking lot and treat a compound fracture. Very wickedly neat stuff. Not as cool as that time I got to see a human cadaver–that was by far the coolest thing I’ve ever done. It’s amazing to see all the guts and such. I am aware that most folks do not share my fascination with all things gruesome, but I just can’t help it. I have always been fascinated by injuries and wounds and autopsies and dissections. It all completely amazes me. Hmm…zombies and autopsies and books. Okay, I admit it, I’m a tad bit odd-ish. Especially since I am now trying to work those into my own version of Julie Andrew’s A Few of My Favorite Things–which I am currently singing in my head.
Daily randomosity: With every loud-ish rumble of thunder, my big, burly-looking cat takes off like a bat out of hell and hides under the bed. I wonder who came up with that? The whole bat out of hell thing, I mean. What’s the bat been doing in hell to make him leave in such a hurry? How did he get there in the first place? Why on earth would anyone pay, like, a hundred dollars or more for a purse? I don’t like spending ten bucks on a purse! I simply cannot justify spending large sums of money on something I will end up staining, ripping, losing, and/or deciding I don’t like it any more. Why are all the really cute socks all those no-show kind? I hate those. I got 3 of my teeth fixed today, and the tooth that hurts the most is the one above one of the ones they fixed…siigh. Or not…after talking for a bit, now one of the newly fixed teeth is being all snarky and hurting and such. I tried sushi once…it was bland and texturally unpleasant…in other words, once was enough. Wouldn’t it be cool to be one of those dinosaur birds (and yes, I know what they are called, but I am not sure of the correct spelling and, once again, spell check is stupid and worthless, so just get over it already!). Anywho, it would be so cool to be one, because then you could totally take dino-sized poos on people you don’t like. Oh! Or maybe you could, like become a poo for hire sort of bird! Like a pooing hitbird! I find it delightful that I can totally make shit up as I go along–brand spankin’ new words just pop outta my mouth whenever I decide no existing words will do. You know those implant thingies people can get that make it look like you have horns or weird bumpy things on your head? That is just creepy. Why the hell would you want to make your head lumpy? And why on earth would you want horns?? I mean, that seems like a twisted version of walking around dressed like a superhero. To each their own and all that, but it doesn’t look wicked or dangerous or bad-ass…it looks stupid and ridiculous and just plain silly. And those folks who get their eyeballs tattooed or their tongue split–that is just nasty and, once again, ridiculous. Some random chick on t.v. just lied to me. She said anyone can do paddle boarding, which is obviously a lie. I have the balance of a drunken hippopotamus, so the idea of standing on some board thing and paddling myself around without falling off at least 903 times is just completely unrealistic. Also, what about folks that have no arms or legs??? Bet she didn’t think about those poor folks! And quadriplegics! Evil liar face t.v. chick.