Gone phishing

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

Ms. Phish: "Hi, this is Cindy over at Dr. Weneverheardofhim's office, and we want to refer a patient to you."

Mary: "Okay, what's their insurance?"

Ms. Phish: "Hang on, to refer them we need Dr. Grumpy's address and Social Security number."

Mary: "Uh, you don't need his SS number to refer a patient. I can give his medical ID, which is what all plans require."

Ms. Phish: "No, this insurance requires the doctor's SS number."

Mary: "What insurance is that?"

Ms. Phish: "National Illness."

Mary: "We work with National Illness, and they don't..."

Ms. Phish: "LOOK! Just give me the doctor's SS number, or we will never send you another patient again!"

Mary: "Goodbye."

Attention Johns!

When negotiating payments with a hooker, it is not advisable to call the police to mediate.

Acronyms

I'm doing an online research survey on epilepsy patients, and it refers to Partial-Onset Seizures as "POS."

So one question says: "How many POS patients do you see each month?"

Dear Smith & Nephew Medical Supply,

On behalf of myself, and everyone else who's trying to diet, thanks for your new line of appetite-suppressing sacral bandage ads.





I don't really know what kind of salad I'd put sacrum dressing on, but right now it could be years before I'm interested in eating again.

Yours truly,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

Thank you, Jamie!

Tuesday afternoon

I'm heading to pick up the kids, and my cell phone rings. I recognize the number as another doctor's office, and answer it.

Dr. Grumpy: "Hello, this is Dr. Grumpy."

Phone Lady: "Hi, Mr. Lumbago, I'm calling from Dr. Beard's office. He'd like you to see a neurologist."

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, this is Dr. Grumpy, the neurologist."

Phone Lady: "Why, yes. Dr. Grumpy is who he wanted you to see. Are you familiar with him?"

Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy. You called my cell phone by mistake."

Phone Lady: "No, we can't give you his cell phone number, but you'll need to call his office. It's 867-5309."

Dr. Grumpy: "This IS Dr. Grumpy. You called me! Not the patient."

(pause)

Phone Lady: "Is this Dr. Grumpy?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

(pause)

Phone Lady: "Why are you answering Mr. Lumbago's phone?"

Question

Dr. Grumpy: "Any other questions?"

Mr. Clueless: "Yeah, but maybe it's not related."

Dr. Grumpy: "What's up?"

Mr. Clueless: "My wife is having a baby soon. When does the doctor poke holes in her nipples to let the milk out?"

Bad omen

It is never good when the chart begins: "Patient suffered a head injury with intracranial bleeding when a fight broke out at his Bible study group."

Scary Halloween Visitors

I'd like to thank my SMOD for submitting this. He works for a drug company, and says this is an actual training video they use.

Return to San Diego, part 2

Our hotel had this thing near the light switch. I have no idea what it was. I tested it a few times, and determined that it wasn't a motion detector or light sensor. I asked everyone at the front desk, the maid, and the maintenance guy. None of them knew what it was, either.





After various family things Craig wanted to go to Sea World.

We were in line for the Sea Lion Halloween show. We actually got there first, followed closely by a deranged woman and her tribe. She immediately accosted the poor teenager standing at the entrance to ask what time we'd be allowed in. The girl said "about 15 minutes."

So, exactly 15 minutes later the woman wanted to argue about it.

Deranged woman: "Why haven't you let us in?"

Teenage girl: "Gates open at 2. It's 1:56, ma'am."

Deranged woman: "Well, at 1:41 you said 'about 15 minutes.' It's been that. I demand you let us in."

Teenage girl: "Sorry, but it has to be at 2:00. My boss will tell me."

Deranged Woman: "This is ridiculous. I demand you refund my park admission RIGHT NOW!"

Teenage Girl: "You'll have to discuss that with the office by the front gate, ma'am."


Deranged Woman turned away to mumble under her breath for about 30 seconds. During that time a park employee came over with an older couple. Both were using walkers, and he clearly had Parkinson's disease. Teenage Girl put them at the front of the line.

Deranged Woman: "What are you doing?"

Teenage Girl: "These people are handicapped, ma'am. Therefore we allow them in early to give them extra time to find seats."

Deranged Woman: "That is grossly unfair! I demand you make them go to the back of the line (which by now was the size of the Queen Mary)."

Teenage Girl: "Sorry ma'am. Our policy is to assist those with disabilities."

Deranged Woman: "That is discrimination against the healthy. When I go for my refund, I'm going to report you."


At this point Deranged Woman noticed my Grumpyville Faceplants cap.

Deranged Woman: "Oh! Grumpyville. My sister lives in Grumpyville. She's a surgeon. Do you know her? Are you a doctor?""

Dr. Grumpy: "I clean fish tanks." (this is true)

She turned away and pretended I was invisible. Obviously aquatic habitat maintenance people were beneath her caste.

Mercifully, Teenage Girl let us in at this point. While we were waiting the guy doing the pre-show, Biff, sprayed Deranged Woman with a squirt gun, and she dragged her kids out of the theater. Apparently she'd had enough.


Over at the Pets Rule show Craig noticed me staring at a fire extinguisher, and asked why. In a true sign of how bad a neurology geek I've become, I realized I was staring at the "In case of emergency break glass" hammer and thinking what a great reflex hammer it would make.






Craig was hungry, and I got him some chicken fingers (which should be dipped in gold for what they charge). I lost my appetite when I looked at the table across from us.



You'd think they could keep the crack dealers out of the park.


After Sea World we went down the street to Belmont Park, a small amusement park by the beach.

Craig loved the place, because he could run amok without interference from his siblings. They have a cool, older, roller coaster there, The Giant Dipper (he called it "Giant Diaper) which he dragged me on 14 times. By the end of the day I thought I'd need a giant diaper myself.


They also have a ride that sends you up in the air and flips you around. I personally DID NOT find it reassuring that they have a large ladder attached to the fence surrounding it.






While we were waiting at the "Beach Blaster" line a homeless guy (wearing nothing but sneakers and spandex shorts) came over, and tried to earn some change by singing the 1980's Kim Wilde song "Kids In America." Unfortunately for him, the 80's were 21 years ago, he had no singing voice, and he only knew the chorus. So he repeatedly belted out:

"We're the kids in America! Wa-ho!
We're the kids in America! Wa-ho!
We're the kids in America! Wa-ho!
We're the kids in America! Wa-ho!
We're the kids in America! Wa-ho!"

Until finally security led him away.


They had some prize games on the midway, where, as usual, you could win stuffed animals. I'd hate to win one of the whales. They were doing a chain hump, and I didn't want to interrupt them.




On the way back to the hotel I stopped for some artisanal Mexican food at Taco Bell, and we sat in the lobby to eat it. While Craig watched TV, I downloaded a few EEG's to my computer to read them. Behind me the front desk phone rang, and I heard the polite clerk have this remarkable discussion.

"Front desk, this is Mike, can I help you? No sir, sorry. We don't have safes in the rooms. We have safety deposit boxes at the front desk, and you can use them at no charge. Just bring down your valuables and... No, there's no way I can move one up to your room, sir. They're built into a concrete wall for security. Um, well, uh, I really have no idea what local companies install safes, especially at 9:15 on a Saturday night. But it's a hotel room, sir. You can't just have someone come up there and install a safe in the wall. Because it's against hotel policy. I am the night manager, sir. I'll be happy to lock up your valuables down here, but there's no way you can install a safe in your room. Okay, sir. Have a good night."

I was impressed. Mary couldn't have done it any better.

Return to San Diego, part 1

So as everyone knows, Craig, his hair, and I had to fly to San Diego last weekend for various reasons. But, while there, we got to do a few things around town.

Namely, his inexplicably favorite place on Earth, Legoland.

They've done up Lego Miniland with ghost figures for Halloween. Maybe it's just me, but I think they look more like something out of a plastic KKK rally.






Throughout Legoland they were constantly blasting Halloween music: Monster Mash, GhostBusters, and oddly, The Time Warp. Yes, the Time Warp. Because nothing says family entertainment like music from a flick that featured extraterrestrial transvestites, multipartner sex in a pool, an axe murder, and cannibalism.

Like KISS, what was a sign of moral decline in the 1970's is now benign family fare. By the time Craig brings his kids here Jenna Jameson will be on the same pedestal as Carol Brady and Shirley Partridge.



We even saw my MIL at the park.






And, as always, I stopped to marvel at one of my idols, made out of Lego's.





We spent the afternoon there, and as we headed out at closing time, Craig wanted to stop and look around the Lego store near the park's entrance.

BIG. MISTAKE.

As we walked into the store, I thought it was really hot inside, as the air was moving and twisting like a heat mirage. Upon getting closer I realized it wasn't a mirage, but millions of humans, like the entire population of southern California, all crammed into an 8,000 square foot retail store. It looked like people would consume all the oxygen in the room before they could buy anything, but the open doors kept a continuous ocean breeze coming.

Picture this: An amusement park packed with Lego-crazy chidren, many of them in Halloween costumes. And now they're all being funneled to the exit, past the same Lego store. Naturally they're all going to want to stop inside (which is, of course, why the park is designed that way). So the place is insane. It made black Friday and 3rd world bazaars look like peaceful, orderly affairs. The noise was like a packed stadium during 3rd down & long.

As soon as we got in Craig and his hair vanished, disappearing into the mass of humanity, and only reappearing when he had the question "Can I have this?" (which applied to pretty much everything in the store). I felt bad for the staff, who were horribly outnumbered, and who after closing would have to rebuild the shelves from kids randomly moving merchandise from it's original location.

After the vampire at the counter sucked the green corpuscles out of my wallet, we headed to the car. On the way we passed a poster featuring Lego Star Wars characters. And, to my horror, Craig yelled "DAD! LOOK! His head is a penis!!!"





Back at the hotel Craig went swimming while I worked on my computer. They were serving a light dinner, and at one point I went in to get something. Craig wanted some cookies, so took my key-card and went in ahead of me... then let the door close behind him as he disappeared into the serving area.

Leaving me locked outside.

I knocked. No one answered. After a few minutes he showed up, with a plate full of cookies, and asked me why I hadn't come in with him.

Gotta love kids.

Today's criminal tip

When someone steals your marijuana stash, don't call the police to report it as "stolen jewelry."

Thank you, Nathan!

Artisanal link

It's been a few months since I had time to collect and publish some of the horrifying bullshit artisanal pictures you guys have been sending in, but I promise I'll get around to it.

In the meantime, here is an awesome site by a kindred spirit who hates the word as much as I do.

Enjoy!

Thank you, YellerDawg!

Zombies! At my office!

At the start of her appointment today Mrs. Married said her husband was running late, but would be coming to the appointment. So I told Mary to send him back when he got here.

A few minutes later he shows up.

She introduced him as "this is my late husband."

Proofreading

I'd like to thank Dani for sending me this bizarre chest X-ray report.