Attention patients!

I'm sorry that you landed in the hospital, or that your nurse there isn't as responsive to your call light as you feel she should be. I'm sure she has several other patients, and is doing her best.

BUT

Mary and Annie are NOT your nurses. Just because your nurse is busy doesn't mean you should call my office to see if they can drive over to bring you pain medicine, have someone come fix your TV's volume, or get you coffee or a warm blanket.

So stop calling my damn office.

Thank you.

In the news

Two unrelated articles:

1. Sometimes being drunk and naked isn't enough. Then you need a raccoon.

Thank you, Tanya!

2. Now THIS is what I call a gardening accident.

Thank you, Webhill!

Dear Dr. Whozawhatsit,

Thank you for faxing me this remarkably helpful picture last night:





For the life of me, I have no idea what it is. Since you left the name off, I have no idea who it is, either. In fact the only thing legible on it was your name. So maybe it's you? But you're not one of my patients (perhaps you should be).

Anyway, I'm sure these amazingly clear pictures will be of tremendous use in my treatment of their condition, whatever it is. Whoever it is. And whatever the hell it's a picture of.

Yours truly,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

Mary's desk, August 29, 2011

Mary: "Dr. Grumpy's office, this is Mary."

Mrs. Krayzd: "Hi! I need to reschedule my appointment with Dr. Grumpy. There's no way I'll be able to make it that day."

Mary: "Okay, when is your appointment?"

Mrs. Krayzd: "I have no idea. Can you look it up for me?"

First day of school

Today the Grumpy kids (and Carson, whoever he is) are back to school.

It's also come to my attention that classes are starting today at the medical school I attended.

In honor of that, I'd like to show this brief educational video to let the new medical students know what the next 7-10 years of school and residency will be like.

Maybe she can get a job at Dunkin Donuts now...

Yes, yet another fast-food entrepreneur goes down.

Thank you, Janine!

Sunday morning, 1:38 a.m.

Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a page."

Mr. Beer: "Hi ya, Doc, how ya doin'?"

Dr. Grumpy: "What can I do for you, sir?

Mr. Beer: "How's Las Vegas? I LOVE Las Vegas."

Dr. Grumpy: "It was fine. Why are you calling?"

Mr. Beer: "Mary had said you were going to be in Vegas, so I thought I'd give you some pointers. I have a great Blackjack system, and there's an awesome bar over at..."

Dr. Grumpy: "I'm home. If you don't have a medical reason to be calling, then I'm getting off the phone."

Mr. Beer: "Hang on, why don't you get something to write on, in case you go back, and..."

Dr. Grumpy: "Good night."

Great sign placement

Let's face it, if you need a nebulizer breathing treatment while using this thing, it may not be safe to use it at all.


(click to enlarge)





Thank you, Boris!

Friday afternoon whatever

Mr. Bacov: "I have anorexia, where I read stuff backwards."

Dr. Grumpy: "You mean dyslexia."

Mr. Bacov: "Whatever."

Thursday afternoon: 3:49 p.m.

We were busy yesterday, catching up on mail, returning phone calls, and loading backpacks for school next week.

The phone rings:

Dr. Grumpy: "Hello?"

Mr. Kramden: "Hi, I'm the short bus driver for Wingnut elementary school. I just want to verify that I'll be dropping Frank Grumpy off at your home each day?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

Mr. Kramden: "Okay, and Carson, too?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, who's Carson?"

Mr. Kramden: "He's your other kid."

Dr. Grumpy: "We don't have a Carson. Our other kids are Craig and Marie, and they go to the Afternoon Program at Grumpyville Center."

Mr. Kramden: "Well, my list says you have Carson, and I'm dropping him off at your house."

Dr. Grumpy: "I told you, we don't have a kid named Carson. There isn't any kid by that name in this neighborhood. I don't even know a kid named Carson."

Mr. Kramden: "Look. Who has the list here? You or me?"

Great moments in refrigerators

"What could possibly go wrong?"

No matter where you go, there you are

And so, after a day of flying, a delayed take-off, my kid barfing on a plane, messed up hair, returning our rental van, and one lost luggage item, we are now back home. Items that made it successfully home included Craig's hair and the humungous cloth basketball.

I'll be spending today catching up on junk at the office, and will likely return to my regularly scheduled whining on Friday.

School starts again on Monday. This year we ordered our supplies pre-packed, but I'm re-running my back-to-school shopping guide for your entertainment. Until I get caught up on my groove.


Dr. Grumpy's Guide to Life: Shopping for school supplies

Okay, so this is the 2nd edition of my helpful newsletter (If you missed the 1st one on surviving your child's birthday party, click here).

Today's issue will focus on what I discovered to be a horribly traumatic life-altering experience: Back-to-School week at OfficeStaplesMaxDepot. There's one right across the street from my office, so I go there regularly for supplies. It's quiet, the employees are generally helpful, and I know my way around it pretty well.

I naively thought this would be easy.

So on to the lesson:

1. Do NOT volunteer for this job (flip a coin, or arm wrestle, or have a duel to decide instead).

Silly me. When Mrs. Grumpy was wondering when she'd have time to get the school supplies, I volunteered. I figured "How hard can it be? Hell, it's just some pencils and a bottle of glue". DUMBASS!!! The list is HUGE, and features items from the mundane (No. 2 pencils), to the specific (Expo dry erase markers, wide tip, in blue, green, yellow, and black) to the odd (1 Pringles can with lid, original flavor, empty). It took me 2 freakin' hours!

2. Be prepared. Normally there are 5-10 other quiet business-type people in there. NOT THIS WEEK! Holy Crap! An African street bazaar is an orderly affair compared to this! Deranged parents running on caffeine! Kids running amok! Store clerks running for their lives! And all the crazed parents are trying to read off a list, push a cart, yell at kids, text, and scream into a cell phone at the same time. Bring a water bottle, food, a map, a cattle prod, and a flashlight. A card with your blood type, hospital preference, and next of kin is also a good idea.

3. Do not leave your cart unattended. People will steal your shit out of it. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP! I had my cart 2/3 full with the crap on my list, when I left it at the end of an aisle to go find notebooks (spiral, wide-ruled, 100 pages each, single subject, 1 red, 1 blue, 1 green). When I returned 3 minutes later about half the stuff I'd already put in it was GONE! I watched a few minutes later as it happened to others. Apparently, when you walk away from your cart, people think it means they can raid it for supplies they haven't had a chance to pick up yet. "Hey, this guy has those index cards (2 sizes, lined and unlined, 100 each) that my kid needs. Cool. I'll scratch that off my list".

If another parent asks you what school your kid goes to, or who their teacher is, DO NOT ANSWER. Ignore them. Pretend you're deaf, or that you don't speak English. They are not making conversation. They are casing your cart, and if they find out your kid is in the same class as their kid, they'll wait until you aren't looking to take your stuff (or just switch carts).

Best part was when I went to ask an employee for help finding something (Flair Correction Pens, in 4 colors). When I got back to my cart the box of 12 ultra-fine tip Sharpies I left in it had been opened, and someone had taken one of them. They'd even doodled on the shopping list I left in my cart to make sure they were taking a pen that worked.

Oddly, you can leave valuables in your cart. Your wallet, purse, and gold jewelry will be perfectly safe if left unattended, but the $2.69 box of high-lighters (12 markers, large tip, in 3 colors) will vanish.

My recommendation: bring a child to guard your cart, preferably one with an iron bladder and who's old enough to use a Taser or firearm if needed. If your kids don't meet this requirement, stop by Home Depot and hire one of the day laborers who hangs out in front looking for work.

4. Do not look for certain numbers of things. The people who make these lists have no idea how things are sold, so it lists things as "1 Expo dry erase marker, chisel-tip, red). Great. They don't sell red ones individually, just in boxes of 4. Or the Flair Correction Pens don't come in only 4 colors, but they do come in 8. Just buy it. If you aren't certain what item the teacher wants, just buy everything in sight and return the rejects later.

Alternatively, if the teacher only wants 1 of an item, such as, say, an ultra-fine tip Sharpie (which only come in boxes of 12), you can always look for an unattended cart with a box of them in it, and take one. If paper is handy, try doodling on it to make sure you are stealing one that works.

5. Hold your place in the check-out line AT ALL COSTS. Reserve it as soon as you walk in the store BEFORE shopping. Use a child (preferably your own) if possible. Other options include day laborers from Home Depot, mannequins, dogs, and aggressive Venus Fly Traps.

6. When in doubt, ask the bleary-eyed, terrified employees for help. If nothing else, it's fun to watch them try to convince you that they don't speak English as they run outside for a cigarette.

Good luck!

Crime in America

Is nothing sacred?

Thank you, WebHill!

Summer Vacation, Day 10

Our room has the most idiotic feature on Earth (no, not Magic Fingers). The air conditioning unit blows straight up into the curtains, launching them away from the window. So you have a choice between being comfortable at night or having your room randomly inundated by the bright lights of the Strip as the curtains flop in the breeze. With the fan set on high it could cause a seizure.


The room also includes a copy of this generic local promotional magazine:

(click to enlarge)





Take a good look at the cover, and notice how none of the people watching the clown look even remotely entertained. In fact, the person immediately behind and to the right of Bozo is falling asleep. Now, maybe this is because the only seats they could get were facing the clown’s ass, but you’d think the photographer could try for more enthusiasm.

On a random note, I forgot to write about one of the kids' favorite things at LegoLand: The Fire Academy. This 2 minute torture session race is one of the most grueling experiences in the park: 4 families compete against each other to: pump (by means of a handcart) a firetruck down a road to a "fire", use a fire hydrant and 2 water hoses to put it out, then pump the truck back. The fire truck and hoses each take 3 people to operate, and you can have up to 4 people on a team. So this builds serious teamwork. You don't win anything except pride (not even a few measly Lego bricks). And, I'm pleased to say, the Grumpy family over the course of the day finished 3 and 1.


Today we walked around Las Vegas.

Going through the shopping areas is always interesting. In the Flamingo’s lobby they have a sex shop, featuring a doorway made to look like a very tall lady’s legs:






And inside the mannequins (love the adult diaper) are about to get it on:






A store over at Caesar's Palace is debuting the latest in womens’ fashion, which apparently involves wearing a large purse on your head.






This afternoon the kids wanted to hit the pool again. After passing several people trying to sell us timeshares (I’m in a fucking bathing suit, and DO NOT want to stop and talk to you here in the middle of the damn lobby) we got there.

The Excalibur has a bizarre layout where people in tower 1 have to walk through THE WHOLE DAMN CASINO to get to the pool. Tower 2 is right there. Why they don’t have an entrance at each end of the building (when the pool obviously connects to both sides) is beyond me. Because I’d think that seeing yours truly go by wearing nothing more than a bathing suit and flip-flops would scare people away from the slot machines.

We got down to the pools, and were reassured by a look at the lifeguards: there were 5 of them at the one the kids went to: One was busy texting, another was filing her nails, and a third was wearing, I swear, knee-high socks and high-top basketball sneakers. This is not something you normally see in an occupation that requires you to quickly jump in the water at random intervals.

After reassuring Craig that his hair looked fine, I went into the pool myself. There was a row of teenyboppers sitting at the front, cleverly stationed there by plastic surgeons to show off the coming 2012 line of breast implants. Across from them, as a public service announcement to use sunscreen, was a lady who looked like a bizarre cross between a Barbie doll, Charles Atlas, and a leather purse. After one look at her I wanted to buy out the Coolibar catalog.

The only real winner we had in Las Vegas was Marie, who over the course of 3 days found $9.80 in change at the bottom of the Excalibur’s pools.

As we walked back through the lobby, dripping wet, in swimsuits, some time-share guy blocked our path to ask “Hey! Have you guys been at the pool?” ("No, you moron, it was raining over by the buffet"). I don’t know what look it was that I gave him, but he backed off fast.


Tonight we went down to the medieval-themed arcade. When I was a kid the games were 25 cents each. Now they’re $2.

These places are always frightening to me because Marie is the MASTER of crane games (“be the crane, Squidward”). So we knew we’d be leaving with a few small stuffed animals. But we weren’t prepared to see her show up with this giant basketball (Diet Coke can placed for comparison) that she won.





Mrs. Grumpy and I exchanged the “How the hell are we going to get that on the plane?” look, so common to parents in these situations.

After a strenuous time playing arcade games, the tribe apparently thought we were on a cruise, and wanted to go for pizza, grilled cheese, and ice cream. So we went to the coffee shop, where Marie argued with the waiter that she also wanted bacon, even though it wasn't breakfast. And some chocolate chip cookies. She gave him some soggy coins from the pool as a tip.

And so, from somewhere in the Excalibur hotel, happy Summer Vacation to all, and to all a good night.