"Hey, this Mu Shu pork tastes like..."

Yep. Not much more to say.

Thank you, Don!

Red, too

Mrs. Ganglia: "And when the headache was really bad, the right side of my face was drooping."

Dr. Grumpy: "Was it really drooping, or just feel like it was drooping?"

Mrs. Ganglia: "It was really drooping! Wait, hang on, Gary took a picture of it..."  whips out iPhone, holds it up. "Here, take a look."

On her iPhone is displayed a picture of a remarkably muscular 20-something human male, with washboard 6-pack abs, naked except for his snowboots. He's holding his erect penis in his right hand and pointing to the camera with his left.

Mrs. Ganglia: "Oh GOD! That's not it..." (swipes frantically a few times) "Here it is. You can see my face is drooping."

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, yes, you can."

Memories...

In college I lived in a building where all the windows faced a center courtyard.

One day, when it was nice out and most people had their windows open, a couple decided to have a loud fight in the courtyard, completely oblivious to the fact that pretty much everyone in the building could hear.

I don't remember any of the details, but at some point the girl yelled: "So tell me what you want to do! If you want to break up, we'll break up! If you want to go inside and fuck, we'll go inside and fuck! Just tell me what you want!"

There was a long pause.

Then some unseen guy on the 3rd floor yelled: "Tell her you want to fuck!"

The couple looked absolutely horrified. They got in a car and left.

Candor

Mrs. Camel: "I only get migraines when I snort cocaine."

Dr. Grumpy: "Why don't you quit?"

Mrs. Camel: "Nah. I'd rather just take a headache pill."

Guilt

Dr. Grumpy: "Have you tried any pain medications for this?"

Ms. Nurse: "Well... Yeah..."

Dr. Grumpy: "What's wrong?"

Ms. Nurse: "I'm really scared to talk about it... I took something that a friend gave me. I don't have my own prescription, so I'm worried about losing my nursing license if people find out."

Dr. Grumpy: "Well, I'm not looking to get you in trouble, and to help you I need to know what you've already tried."

Ms. Nurse: "It was" (looks down) "Ibuprofen."

(pause)

Dr. Grumpy: "Did you say Ibuprofen?"

Ms. Nurse: "Yes. Oh, God, please don't report me. I know it was wrong."

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, it's over-the-counter."

Ms. Nurse: "You don't understand! This was the prescription-only 800mg! It wasn't even my prescription! I'm sorry, I can't believe I did something like that. I'm really not that kind of person!"

Dr. Grumpy: "I wouldn't worry about it."

Annual peeve

For the 4th year in a row I'm going to run this column. I'll keep running it until this practice stops. Which likely means the post will be here every damn year until I retire/die/get institutionalized.

In the past I've addressed it to the President. But since nobody (except me) running for office this year considers it to be a major issue, I'm making it the center of my campaign platform. And, if elected, I will carry it out!

Fellow citizens,

We now face a national crisis of such serious proportions that it dwarfs other issues, such as global warming, health care, and middle-east peace. It now threatens the very fabric of our society, and directly affects every citizen. And I can remain silent no longer.

It's still September, and every store near me ALREADY HAS THEIR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS UP!

I have nothing against the holidays. Peace on Earth and all that stuff. But moving them up as if they were being held in another time-zone or alternate universe is getting out-of-hand. As far as I know, Christmas hasn't budged in my lifetime. And treating every day like it was Christmas (like the stores seem to want me to do) is not helping.

The well-respected Nick documentary program, The Fairly Oddparents, has carefully researched what would happen if Christmas were held every day (Episode 107, air date 12-12-01 I have kids, OKAY!). Their conclusion? It would be catastrophic.

There also seems to be a degree of unintentional discrimination. For example, Hanukkah starts several weeks before Christmas this year, but I don't see Hanukkah decorations going up yet. In fact, I haven't seen any at all. Or Kwanzaa stuff. Or Festivus. Or New Year's.

This seasonal perversion extends to other holidays, too. I mean, by January 2nd most stores are decked out with Easter junk, and on July 5th the Halloween crap is up.

So, if elected, I promise the following, federally mandated solutions (please note: I'm only including those holidays that retailers love. Let's face it, not many of us are out there buying gifts for Groundhog day or cards for Columbus day. I'm also leaving out local holidays like Delaware Statehood Day, the Montana Huckleberry Harvest Celebration, and the Byron, Illinois, Turkey Testicle Festival).

Valentine's Day Decorations will NOT be put up until the 3rd week of January.

St. Patrick's Day Decorations will NOT be put up until after March 1st.

Passover/Easter decorations will NOT be put up until after St. Patrick's day.

Independance day decorations (July 4th) will NOT be put up until the 3rd week of June.

Halloween stuff will NOT be put up before October 1st

Thanksgiving Stuff will NOT be put up before November 1st.

Christmas/New Year/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus stuff will NOT be put up until the day after Thanksgiving.

(Please note: there should be some flexibility here, as Hanukkah and Easter/Passover may vary, but decorations should NOT be hung more then 3 weeks prior to holiday onset).

An alternative plan would be to have a single annual holiday combining all of the above, called St. Christmukahpasseastkwanpatfourthnewfestgivingween. Decorations for the combined holidays may be hung for 30 days prior to this event, and MUST be removed the day after.

Punishment for business owners who violate these laws would be on a 3-step basis:

1st offense: Business license revoked for one month.

2nd offense: Tarred, feathered, and forced to eat fruitcake.

3rd offense: Drawn and quartered, then served with fava beans and a nice chianti.

Yours truly,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

Mary's desk, September 24, 2012

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

Phone lady: "Hi, I need to make a new-patient appointment with Dr. Grumpy."

Mary: "Okay... We can see you this Friday, at 1:30. Does that work?"

Phone lady: "Yes. I have Major Illness insurance, do you take that?"

Mary: "We certainly do. We'll see you on Friday. Any other questions?"

Phone lady: "Yes, do you think I need to see a neurologist?"

Mary: "I really can't answer that. Didn't your internist refer you?"

Phone lady: "Yes, but I don't trust her medical judgment, so I'm asking you."

On call this weekend

Dr. Grumpy: "Can you move your right arm?"

Mr. Stroke: "No... The leg isn't working either."

Nurse ER: "Hang, on, I'm going to put the blood pressure cuff on you."

Dr. Grumpy: "What time did this start?"

Mr. Stroke: "About 2 hours ago."

Dr. Grumpy: "Any headache?"

Mr. Stroke: "No, but my dick itches."

Nurse ER: "Your left arm still works."

More from the artisanal mailbag

Okay, it's been a while since I bitched about the overuse of the word artisanal (see my artisanal whining page if you miss this sort of thing), so today I'm going to pick a few out from the pictures that I keep in a handcrafted folder on my computer desktop.

First we have perfume, which is likely handmade in some 3rd world chemical plant. The ad gets bonus irritant points for using handcrafted and artisan in the same sentence:

"We could fill these bottles with donkey piss, and people would still buy them. So let's do it."

This picture was sent by a reader living in China, to show that the word is now planet-wide, regardless of economic system.

"It sounds better if you use the word twice. As least that's what I think the English-as-a-2nd-language teacher said"

Next, from the United Kingdom, we have this place:

Is the trench digger artisanal? Or the power generator? Or the guy who takes your credit card when you order one?

Of course, no artisanal posting would be complete without something that grows in the dirt, was picked by someone making minimum wage, packaged by a machine, and had a label slapped on it.

Here in the U.S even a piece of paper is now artisanal:

If you're going to buy artisanal paper, you probably want a printer equal to the task:

"Handcrafted by mass-production assembly line machines in a Chinese sweatshop"

Lastly, it's important to remember that artisanal things can boldly go where no one has gone before:

"We canna go any faster, Captain! We're all out of handcrafted anti-matter!"

Thursday afternoon

Dr. Grumpy: "Have you been using anything for the shoulder pain?"

Mr. Strain: "My friend gave me a cream she bought, and I've been rubbing it on the area. I don't remember the name. It's like Ben-Gay, but gayer. I mean stronger."

Faces in the crowd

Evolution does interesting things, with unintended consequences.

Obviously, a key feature for the survival of any species is the ability to differentiate between friend and foe. If you don't recognize a predator coming toward you, or don't realize the hot girl in the cave next door is one of your own kind, you're unlikely to pass your genes on to the next generation.

As a result we're hardwired to recognize other human faces. We may have left the caves way behind us, but the basic programming is still in place, and damn near impossible to override.

Anyone recognize this picture?

How long did it take you to see a face? Likely 1 second or less.

It's an area of Mars called Cydonia, photographed by the Viking 1 probe in 1976. Scientists at the time dismissed it as a coincidence of light and shadow, but that didn't stop a number of writers (particularly Erich Von Däniken) from including it in horseshit pseudoscience. It got great publicity in non-scientific circles as "proof" of life on Mars, or as evidence that extraterrestrials had previously visited our backwater solar system.

The area in question, of course, is still on Mars, and been imaged many times since then. Here's a shot from 2000: Doesn't look much like a face anymore, huh?

This is called pareidolia, and is, in my opinion, a fascinating phenomenon.

We see faces in clouds:

In cars:

Pretty much anywhere:

Of course, with particularly famous faces, such as Jesus, Mary, or Elvis, this gets even weirder. Even before the internet age the news had occasional stories about figures (usually religious) being seen on toast, tortillas, trees, ceiling stains, and shadows on walls. With the advent of the web, however these sorts of things attract considerable attention quickly. Our continuing fascination with them is an ironic commentary on an ancient survival mechanism that keeps us from becoming something else's dinner.

It's also led to a rather bizarre cottage industry where you can now modify your toaster to put Jesus, or other famous faces, on your breakfast.

So my point here is that when you see a face on anything, whether it's bread, woodgrain, or a cloud, to just marvel at it. It's the way your fascinating brain functions to make sense out of random patterns, and keep you from becoming lion poop.

And beyond that, it's nothing.

The end.

Never mind

I'm walking a forgetful elderly lady up front after an appointment, and notice on the info sheet that today is her birthday.

Dr. Grumpy: "Happy birthday!"

Mrs. Taubeta: "Oh, is it someone's birthday?"

Dr. Grumpy: "It's your birthday."

Mrs. Taubeta: "I have a birthday coming up, too!" (looks at Mary) "Well, have a happy one!"

Mary: "It's your birthday."

Mrs. Taubeta: "Really? My birthday is next week, too! What a coincidence."

Dr. Grumpy (giving up): "Well, I hope you have a happy one."

Mrs. Taubeta: "Thank you. And to you, too. I'm sorry you have to work on your birthday."

Soap Opera

Dr. Grumpy: "Any seizures recently?"

Miss Scorned: "I don't think you've had any?"

Mr. Ictal: "Yeah, about 2 weeks ago. Remember? I was sleeping, and pissed the bed."

Miss Scorned: "I don't remember... YOU BASTARD! YOU'VE BEEN SLEEPING AT DIANA'S AGAIN!!!"

Mr. Ictal: "No! I mean, I must have been on a, uh, business trip or something..."

Miss Scorned: "YOU'RE A FUCKING GARDENER! YOU DON'T GO ON BUSINESS TRIPS!"

Mr. Ictal: "You're right, I..."

Miss Scorned: "I AM SO OUT OF HERE!" (grabs purse, leaves)

Long pause

Mr. Ictal: "So, anyway, I had one seizure, about 2 weeks ago. Hey, can you download a bus schedule? I'm going to need a ride home."

Dining out

This past Friday night Mrs. Grumpy was out with a friend. So, in the tradition of single dads everywhere, I took the kids out for a gourmet meal at Costco.

This is a surprisingly complex task that involves juggling orders for hot dogs, pizza, chicken bakes, ice cream, churros, and drinks in your head, while sending the kids on a seek-and-destroy mission to find an open table and hope they don't kill an old man eating a hot dog and hide his body under a 50 lbs. bag of dog food in the process.

I found myself in line behind a lady who was torturing the poor 16 year-old kid working the counter, and got to hear this:

Ms. Food: "I can't decide between the pizza or a hot dog."

Counter Guy: "Okay, do you want someone to go ahead of you?"

Ms. Food: "No... Which one has more calories?"

Counter Guy: "Um, not sure... I can look it up."

Ms. Food: "Well, I want something low-calorie."

Counter Guy: "Well, the salad has fewer than either of them."

Ms. Food: "Okay... I'll take a hot dog, with a piece of cheese pizza."