Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 5

Today we are in Seattle.

I was woken this morning by the 3 kids doing a horrific rendition of the 1980’s pop song “Don’t You Want Me?”. Considering they stayed up watching "Underdog" later than Mrs. Grumpy or I, they sure had a lot of energy when they woke up. I had no idea 80's pop was in the movie's soundtrack. Or maybe they changed the channel after we passed out.

After getting them dressed (which required me threatening to volunteer the boys for some electrical conductance experiments) we went down to breakfast. We'd run out of Diet Cokes, so I wanted coffee to wake up.

Unfortunately, the hotel had somehow managed to run out of coffee by the time we made it downstairs. Fortunately, there was a Costco nearby. So we reloaded on critical (and not-so-critical) supplies (20 lbs. box of laundry soap, 48 cans of Diet Coke, 1 box of pancake mix [NO! I HAVE NO FREAKIN' IDEA WHY WE NEEDED TO BUY PANCAKE MIX!], tomatoes [just in case, I guess], and tape) and I bought a soda cup at the snack bar and kept refilling it. Of course, by this time the kids were afraid they'd die of starvation (they hadn't eaten in what, an hour?), so they all wanted hot dogs, too.

On a side note, is there anyone else out there who remembers the married days before you had kids and a cheap date was a trip to Costco and 2 hot dogs for $3, and you thought that was awesome?

Then we dragged the kids down to Pike Place market and the aquarium. As we drove, the kids were stunned to see the Space Needle really exists. They'd assumed it was just a prop on iCarly.

Aquariums are cropping up on every corner in North America these days, but there are very few that I really like. Seattle is one of them (the others are Vancouver and Boston, though I haven't been to either in years). Actually, I haven't been to that many aquariums when I think about it. I know there are many others, but none of them in North America have octopi I want to vote for.

As we walked into the first exhibit hall, a guy came up to Marie and said "Hey, little lady, would you like to touch my sea cucumber?"

I was about to call security until I realized he worked there, and, indeed, was carrying around a live sea cucumber in a big plastic bowl. I looked around and saw quite a few people carrying sea creatures to show kids, and was reassured that a pedophile hadn't snuck into the aquarium. Or, if he had, at least he wasn't hiding in the bathroom.

It's really embarrassing when your kids start hitting each other in a fight over which of the starfish in the "hands-on" tide pool is Patrick. Or ask the nice lady working there why he isn't wearing pants, like on the show.

While walking between the buildings I noticed this interesting architectural feature overhead.





As you can see, it's a door to nowhere hanging off the 2nd floor. I secretly hoped that on the inside of the door was a sign that said “smoking patio”.

After the aquarium we wandered around Pike Place Market. I like this place, and could spend all day browsing. I have a fond memory from the 1990's when I was in Seattle interviewing for neurology residency. Due to flight schedules I had a whole day to kill, and spent it wandering around the waterfront and Pike Place area. I dodged flying fish, bought books, had someone take my picture next to a cardboard cutout of a T-101 Terminator (I figured in a few months patients would see me that way), and ate anything that looked good (which was a lot.). By the end of the day I was poorer, fatter, and barely fit into my suit for the interview the next day.

But now, with 3 wild kids, the best you can do is window shop and keep them out of stores where they might break something.

One item here that caught my attention was this poster for a lighthearted musical. I was somewhat sorry to see the show’s run was over by the time we visited.





Seattle has some things that other cities just can't match. My kids, in particular, loved the famous Wall of Gum (picture below). This is exactly what it sounds like. Since 1993 people have been sticking their gum on a wall at the market, and it's now several inches thick. It’s been named the 2nd germiest attraction in the world after the Blarney stone.

Of course, all 3 of them wanted to add gum to it. We didn't have any (shit! why didn't we think of that at Costco?). So to prevent widespread unrest I bought an overpriced pack of gum, and they all chewed a piece and then stuck it up.




(yes, that’s Frank. Due to him turning a kid in for eating clay, he’s now in the Wingnut Elementary School witness protection program).

Immediately after this picture was taken, Frank, for reasons known only to him, rubbed his hands all over everyone else's gum! So I was assigned the job of slathering him with Purell (don't leave home without it).

We stopped at Ivar's for dinner and were assaulted by fed the world's fattest seagulls again. On the way back to the hotel, Craig and Marie capped off the day by eating the damn tomatoes, sending seeds flying through the minivan.

And that's the way it is.

Weenie barbecue

I'd like to thank my Science Marches on Department for sending me this. Although I'm on vacation, the nature of such important research demands that it be published immediately.

Determination of Human Penile Electrical Resistance

J Sex Med. 2010 May 26. [Epub ahead of print]

Tsai VF, Chang HC, Liu SP, Kuo YC, Chen JH, Jaw FS, Hsieh JT.

Institute of Biomedical Engineering, National Taiwan University, Taipei, Taiwan.

ABSTRACT

Introduction. Electrosurgery has been a surgical application since the late 19th century. Although many urologists take this daily application for granted, the effects of electrical treatment on penile nerves and vessels have not been well documented.

Methods. Measurement of the electrical characteristics of three human penises in order to create models to analyze the effect of electricity on penile nerves and vessels.

Results. Electrical resistivity (rho) of the penile shaft is 127.14 Omega . cm at 500 kHz. Electrical current density (J) of the penis shaft is 71.06 mA/cm(2), nerve (60.23 mA/cm(2)), vessel (67.93 mA/cm(2)), and return electrode (2.11 mA/cm(2)). Electrical field strength (E) of the whole penis shaft is 9.03 volt/cm. The proportion of generated heat on the penis is four times as much as on other body parts of the circuit.

Conclusions. Potential and subclinical injury to erectile tissue caused by electrosurgery on the penis cannot be underestimated.

Waking up in Seattle

And checking the internet.

This was on Wikipedia this morning, under the "From Wikipedia's newest articles" section.

Maybe I'm just tired, but it gave me the giggles.

(click to enlarge)

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 4

Today we drove to Seattle.

As you may remember, last night we had trouble finding a hotel room. The town was small, but we were tired, and couldn't handle the thought of driving for another few hours.

Unfortunately, the place is hosting some sort of regional fishing meeting, so finding a room was hard. We finally got one in a nondescript place on the outskirts. It looked fine, and served breakfast to boot (for people traveling with kids, the trend of hotels that offer even a basic continental breakfast is just awesome). There were several other families there, and the pool was full of kids. So we went in, and I asked for a room. That seemed to surprise the friendly clerk, and he said "How many rooms?" I replied "Oh, just one." I figured he was just hard of hearing.

Silly me. At breakfast this morning we discovered that the place covertly specializes in polygamous families. So our little familial unit of 5 was dwarfed by throngs of kids in different colored clothes, mothers rushing everywhere, and alpha males eating waffles. One guy had a T-shirt that said "I may not be smart, but I can lift heavy things". I was glad when none of them asked me about Marie's availability.

A few miles outside Missoula we passed a large bra in the middle of the road. This was followed by a sock, then a pair of shorts, and, after a surprisingly large wardrobe of clothes, we caught up to a car with suitcases on the roof, one of which was unlocked and opening as they hit bumps, allowing things to escape. We tried to tell the driver, but she flipped us off.

We saw this warehouse as we traveled. For my other medical readers, I had to get a shot of it. So now I know where the land of Junkie Joy is located.





Western Montana is remarkably scenic. Our enjoyment of it was only slightly marred by Frank asking "How do they do such nice landscaping?”

Later, while driving through the middle of nowhere we passed a cement plant. In typical tourist fashion, there were several cars pulled over with people taking pictures of it. I don't understand people.

It occurred to me today that the GPS system has ruined one of the truly great moments of childhood trips: watching your parents fighting over directions. Today's children will grow up with no idea that parents would once fight over directions, would fight over whether or not to pull over and ask for directions, would fight over who got to hold the map. The most they ever hear is the pleasant GPS voice saying "RECALCULATING" which translates into "You dipshit, why can't you listen?"

In late afternoon we passed a religious billboard, which read “Jesus said ‘This is the work of the Lord’ ”. Due to poor (or perhaps intentional) placement, the sign was located immediately next to the town landfill.

After arriving in Seattle we took the kids down to the waterfront for dinner, and ate outside. There we were assaulted by that most aggressive bird of prey, the seagull. It's like these things evolved solely for the purpose of attacking people who eat outside. Some of them were so fat it was amazing to see them fly.

The kids are watching Underdog, the movie. I'm going to bed, the queen size.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 3

Today we drove through Yellowstone National Park.




Our drive here was somewhat delayed, as the GPS gadget had decided to take us to a shopping mall in another town that had “Yellowstone” in the name. Because, of course, we assume it knows what it’s doing, it took us 30 minutes before we finally got suspicious and investigated.

When I was kid, we made several family trips to Yellowstone. It and the Teton mountains are remarkable. Literally some of the most spectacular scenery on Earth.

I vividly remember a trip here in the late 1970's, in our faithful blue Datsun 610 stationwagon (for those too young to know, Datsun became Nissan in the early 80's). My father spotted a large buffalo near the road, and pulled over to get pictures with his humungous multi-lens Nikon camera (my father is an untalented photographer, but tries hard. He has over 300 slides he took of the Golden Gate Bridge in the early 70's, shot from every possible ground angle).

So as we sat there, Mr. Buffalo decided he wasn't too fond of the blue Datsun (or worse, thought it was attractive) and decided to investigate it. So as it came over, we all piled into the car. Dad decided to drive away slowly, trying to get shots of the buffalo through the rear window, neatly framed by my sister and I screaming at him to go faster. But he kept driving slowly away, letting the buffalo catch-up, reassuring us that he could step on the accelerator anytime he wanted to.

It was at this point that the Datsun's transmission began making a horrible noise.

We were now much slower that the buffalo, and my father kept stepping on the gas pedal trying to get away. As the buff closed to about 20 feet the car suddenly lurched forward, veered off the road, swung back on it, and left the frustrated buffalo behind.

So it was somewhat comical that today, when I drove into Yellowstone with my family, the guy at the entrance handed us a map and a large yellow paper that said "Buffalo are dangerous! They weigh 2000 pounds and can run 30 MPH. Do not allow them too close to your car". I hoped they were giving it to everyone, and not saying "Hey! that's the guy who's dad tormented a buff 34 years ago! Give him the flyer!"

Old Faithful, the geyser basins, paint pots, Mammoth Hot Springs- all phenomenal, unearthly areas. Of course, all of this was lost on my kids, who were whining about (Heaven forbid!) having to walk around to see things. So we told them to shut up and keep walking.

We ended up following a ranger around, as he led a tour group. The experience gave me some further appreciation of the park, and dramatically increased my already high esteem for rangers. Because this poor lady was being bombarded by stupid questions to rival those in my practice:

"Do you run the geyser's at night? Or only when the park is open?"

"What time do you bring the bears in for the night?"

"How did they know where to dig holes so geysers would form?"

As we walked around, I heard a teenage girl (covered in piercings and tatoos) complaining about the pathways and informational signs, saying that "it ruins it all, they should just leave things the way nature made it". Is that irony, or what?

Before setting off we decided to feed the whiny kids. This plan ended when we were trapped in line behind another tourist, who wasn't a native English speaker. In fact, as best I could tell his only English words were "Pizza" and "Coke". They didn't have pizza, and the teenage guy trying to patiently explain this to Mr. Pizza was fighting a losing battle. So we left. The whiny kids deserved granola bars, anyway.

As we drove through the park I saw signs that said "Warning: Frost Heaves!" We didn't know what frost heaves were (I've since looked it up, so you don't need to tell me). I was amazed at the number of signs for them. Apparently frost heaves are on a par with Astroturf and Al Queda as a threat to civilization. I was glad to finally have a chance to look up info on them, as I’d guessed they meant barfing from overeating ice cream.

We actually saw bears on this trip, at close range, albeit from the car. I haven’t seen them here before, although I’ve encountered pretty much everything else. It was cool.

After our day at Yellowstone, we began heading for Seattle, but were tired and didn’t get far. We stopped in a small town, which had a restaurant advertising “$7 footlong hot dogs- $5”. We had some trouble finding a room, but finally did, and set up Camp Grumpy.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 2

Hell is a hotel that doesn’t have Nick on TV to distract my kids. So, while we were waiting to go over to my in-laws, my kids killed time by watching Playhouse Disney, which they’re WAY beyond.

So we’re watching “Special Agent Oso”. Today’s episode featured Oso (a bear) trying to feed a pet bunny, and he couldn’t figure out if the food should be inside or outside it’s cage (REALLY!). When he finally got it right, the supporting characters sang “Oso! He's O-SO Special"

Yes, indeed he is.

After an improvised martial arts match at the hotel’s waffle station, we went over to my FIL’s house. I genuinely like my FIL. He's a good guy. He teaches at a university. He has the interesting background of being able to fix ANYTHING, drive a racing jetboat, and he put himself through college and grad school by being a semi-pro boxer.

I have no idea why, but he's always called me "Big I.” He is, to date, the ONLY person I have ever allowed to call me that. And I HATE being called Big I. But from him it sounds okay.

This morning, while Mrs. Grumpy visited with family, and kids went over to a cousin's house, I sat down to read a Bill Bryson book (one of my favorite authors) that I found on a shelf. At some point my FIL came in with a bag of beef jerky.

"Hey, Big I. Here’s some leftover jerky from a trip with the grad students last week. Why don’t you finish it, I’ve had enough.” He plopped down an almost-full bag of jerky next to me, and left the room.

I’m normally not a jerky person, but tried a piece. It was HORRIBLE. Awful beyond words. I spit it out in a Kleenex and flushed it.

And apparently he wanted me to eat it all.

When he went out back to work on his boat, I quickly tossed the bag in the trash and buried it under some newspapar.

A while later he came in and asked me how the jerky was. Trying to be polite I said it was great, and that I’d finished it.

He said, “Oh, I’m glad someone liked it. Me and the grad students all thought it was terrible stuff."

Thanks, FIL.

This afternoon I was assigned the job of going to get an in-law a gift certificate to a local pizza place (it’s his birthday). FIL volunteered to drive me.

Riding with FIL is always an adventure, because he LOVES to teach. So while driving along he’ll randomly point out a window and say something like “See that Mountain Big I? That’s where, in 1873, Lt. Hardon of the 26th Cavalry clashed with the Buffalo Indians. The battle began as his men ascended the east face of Mount Bigpileofrock, and then...”

And while he’s intently looking out the back window pointing at landmarks, you’re holding on for dear life because he’s crossed into on-coming traffic, and doesn’t notice them frantically honking as they swerve off the road. Fortunately, this is a relatively small town, and most locals recognize the red 1987 Chevy Astro as it weaves in and out of traffic, and give it a wide berth.

As we dodged oncoming cars and I learned about the geological history of Bigass Mountain, we passed a sign that said: “Litter and it will hurt!!”

The pizza place was nothing special. A guy in overalls and a Big State University T-shirt sold me a $50 giftcard, then recognized my FIL and began arguing with him about his crappy grade from last semester.

When we got back I noticed this unusual receipt.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 1

Yesterday I flew in and met up with the tribe, who are visiting Mrs. Grumpy’s Dad and his wife’s kids, and their kids.

When we checked into our hotel last night they'd screwed up our reservation, and had us down as needing a handicapped room. This didn't seem to be that big a deal, and since it was the only room they had left, we took it. We were exhausted. I set up a wake-up call, went out to forage for food, and after dinner we all fell dead asleep.

Morning came, and with it our wake-up call. When we went to bed it had, somewhat naively, never occurred to me that a wake-up call in a handicapped room would involve more than a phone ringing. But it did.

At 8:00 the phone SHRIEKED at a volume that would normally be mistaken for a racing fire truck, or perhaps a nuclear bomb. It went beyond waking us up. We all leaped out of bed, with the kids screaming that it was a fire alarm. As if the noise wasn't enough to wake the deaf, the room lights suddenly began flashing on and off, plunging our dark-adjusted eyes from glare to dark to glare again at a seizure-inducing frequency. I grabbed the phone, still asleep, and screamed "What the hell is going on?". The desk clerk, in polite tones amplified by the phone's megavolume, just said "This is your wake-up call sir". I screamed "Thank you!" and hung up.

The lights stopped, plunging the room back into pitch darkness. There were 10 seconds of silence, interrupted by Craig announcing that he needed to change his underwear.

After breakfast we went over to my FIL's house. As soon as I walked in I was unceremoniously told that I'd been picked to lead everybody's kids on a forest adventure hike (I’d apparently been voted to do this while I was flying here yesterday). They all told me that Mrs. Grumpy was supposed to have told me last night. When I looked at her, she pretended to still be deaf from the wake-up call.

So I was given 9 kids, some granola bars & water, and loaded up the van.

On the way to the trailhead Mrs. Grumpy called to tell me to stop for mosquito repellent. After making several wrong turns (and being run off the road by a tractor) I finally found a store. I bought a bottle, and moved on.

The hike was an adventure of whiny children, trees, and LOTS of mosquitoes. Bug repellent doesn’t work. Anyone who spends any time in the great outdoors knows that “repellent” is a misnomer. In fact, it’s more like firing a flare to announce your presence, daring the bugs to come get you.

And they do.

You walk quickly, and they follow you. You stop to swat them, and more land on you. And the kids thought we were having a portable eclipse because of the way the black bug cloud followed us everywhere.

After we gave up and turned back, I discovered the bottle of repellent had leaked in my shoulder pack. It had partially melted one of my plastic credit cards. Nice to think it was on our skin.

We headed back to the house, and to clean the bug spray off I sent all the kids to the showers. Of course, as soon as they got out they wanted to go swimming. All the other adults had magically disappeared, too (gee, I wonder why).

So I'm trying to direct 10 kids (somehow another had joined us, I have no idea where) in and out of showers, and clothes, and towels. All the while I'm having horrible visions of being seen by a nosy neighbor and spending the rest of my life in pedophile prison.

After a bunch of Happy Meals I dragged the kids, and cousins, and some friends who’d somehow attached themselves to my safari train (we were up to 12 now, WTF?), to the city pool. Where, of course, I’m suddenly the bad guy because (although I just bought them lunch) I won’t pay for them to buy stuff from the vending machines. Even though I think some of the snacks in there had gone out of production during my childhood.

The city pool was a popular spot, although when we got there one of the pools was temporarily closed for a rescue drill. As I watched, 2 lifeguards "rescued" a 3rd guard, who was pretending to be a drowning victim. The drowning victim, however, wasn't particularly realistic, as he kept talking, and they were all giggling over something. When they got closer I realized the victim had developed a woody during the drill, and was trying to cover it with his hat.

The kids ran into the pool. I found a chair, opened my book, popped a Diet Coke, and relaxed. The afternoon went on, with increasingly cloudy skies. Then thunder crackled, and suddenly it began pouring rain.

At home this would have sent everyone scurrying out of the pool to shelter (I still don't understand why people get out of the pool when it's raining- you're already wet for crying out loud!) but here everyone kept merrily swimming. Even as it became a downpour. Even as strong winds began blowing. And then the temperature suddenly began dropping. Into the low 50's.

To the kids in the pool, none of this was a big deal. To a guy (like me) in shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops, it wasn't pleasant. My kids had NO interest in leaving the pool, and I was stuck watching them. And I was cold.

Then the wind began blowing water from the water slide onto me. And when I reached for a towel to cover up, my paperback blew into the pool.

At this point I was waiting for a grizzly bear to come maul me. I figured that would make the day complete.

Fortunately, as the lightning got closer, they closed the pool, giving me an excuse to haul the wild bunch back to base. Where the other adults had returned from a nice day of restaurant hopping. They also wanted to know who some of the 14 kids were that I'd brought home, as 3 of them had never been seen before.

I can only assume they were tossed out of passing UFO's by angry alien parents. "It's 4 light years back to Centauri, and you guys can walk if you don't behave!"

I certainly sympathize.

While the kids get ready for breakfast

I'd like to thank my reader Greg for sending this.

And so it begins...

While I'm flying to join the rest of the Grumpy Gang (they drove ahead of me a few days ago to visit family), those of you who haven't read our previous freaking nightmares in a minivan family vacations can do so.

Spring Break, 2009

Summer Vacation, 2009

The above links will take you to the first day of each trip, and you can work forward from there.

Provided I don't hang myself in a Motel Hell, I'll be sending reports back from the front.

Annie's Desk, Tuesday Afternoon

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

Ms. DeRanged: "Yeah! I'm a patient of Dr. Grumpy's, and need to ask about my chart."

Annie: "Okay, let me look it up... What can I do for you?"

Ms. DeRanged: "When was I last there?"

Annie: "You were here just once, in December, 2009."

Ms. DeRanged: "Who do you have listed as my family doctor?"

Annie: "Looks like it was Dr. Frendly."

Ms. DeRanged: "Well he's an asshole! And I just fired him! And I don't want you to send him my chart note!"

Annie: "Okay, I'll make a note that he's not your doctor, and so we won't send him any further records."

Ms. DeRanged: "I also don't want you to send him my note from December!"

Annie: "Well, that note already went out."

Ms. DeRanged:"WHAT! HOW DARE YOU! When was that?!!!"

Annie: "The day after your visit, in December, 2009."

Ms. DeRanged: "This is ridiculous! Don't you have any respect for a patient's wishes?"

Annie: "Of course, but at that time you told us to send him a letter."

Ms. DeRanged: "But I just fired him today! I don't want you to send him a letter!"

Annie: "The letter was sent 6 months ago."

Ms. DeRanged: "Then dammit, this is YOUR problem! You get on the phone, call Dr. Frendly, and make him send it back!"

Department of the Obvious

I'd like to thank an anonymous reader for submitting another remarkable research abstract.

Basically, this study discovered that children whose parents lose their jobs are MORE likely to lose their health coverage than children of parents who DON'T lose their jobs.

For the record, I am NOT trying to make a political statement here. I'm just pointing out yet another example of insane research from the Department of Obvious Conclusions. Political comments are not the intention of this post, and will be deleted.

(click to enlarge)

My head is killing me! I'm so happy!

This magazine was sent (unsolicited) to my office recently.

In 12 years I've taken care of a lot of migraine patients. And NONE of them looked this happy about their headaches...





When someone comes into my office with that kind of look, I generally DON'T assume they need a migraine medicine. Haldol (an antipsychotic), perhaps, but not a migraine drug.

Cause & Association

Miss Payne: "I don't feel well. I think it has something to do with my new job. Maybe it's the building. All the people there seem sick."

Dr. Grumpy: "Where do you work?"

Miss Payne: "I'm a receptionist at Local Hospice."

He has eight! We can't wait!

I normally try to avoid political discussions, but today I must speak up.

Because, until now, I never thought I'd find a candidate I could support.

You may remember last week, when I ranted about those damn election signs and ended with this comment:

"On a side note, I strongly believe in the political theory proposed in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" that anyone who actually wants to be President/Prime Minister/Chief Goombah so badly to run for the office is automatically too insane to hold the job. We need to find a way to identify the person who is least interested in the job, and then put them in charge. Just don't let them figure out what they're really doing."

When I wrote that I had no idea such a being existed. And then, yesterday afternoon, I realized one did. And therefore, I openly declare my support for Paul (no, not Ron Paul).





Yes, Paul the Octopus.

Now, some of you may be questioning the wisdom of an invertebrate mollusk taking charge of things, but lets face it: how much worse could he do?

Paul has a remarkable track record, especially considering he's only 2 years old. In this year's World Cup he predicted 7 matches with 100% accuracy. Overall, his lifetime accuracy is 86%. In that regard he's beaten all of his competitors, including Mani the parakeet and Petty the hippo. You also have to consider that Paul hasn't been wrong since June 29, 2008- how many politicians can make that claim?

Paul has shown a remarkable knack for guessing the correct solutions to international disputes- without any military force involved. Isn't it time we had a leader like this?

Paul fits the key criteria for someone who doesn't want the job. As far as I can tell from detailed research (okay, 10 minutes on Wikipedia) Paul's main ambitions in life are food and a female octopus: not money, fame, or a book deal.

Some may express concerns over Paul being from Germany, given the events of the last century. But it should be noted that Paul was hatched in England, and has voted against Germany in some soccer matches. He has no innate prejudices against any race or ethnicity (except for snails, crabs, and clams, which he eats).

So I hereby express my support to elect Paul the Octopus as Leader of the World. I suggest some slogans:

Don't be shellfish! Vote for Paul!

The true centrist (right in 4 limbs, left in 4 limbs, body in the center).

His hearts (all 3) are in the right place.

Support Paul! An invertebrate with backbone!

Sunday morning, 10:35 a.m.

"Hi, um, I want to buy a car, and am having credit problems. It looks like one of the issues is that I owe Dr. Grumpy $68.54 from an unpaid bill in 2004. Anyway, I really need this car, like, before Monday, so can I pay this today to get you to take it off my record? If someone can please call me back, I'll give you a credit card number right now, and we can settle this."

Science goes to dinner

I'd like to thank Sumdood for submitting this important research:

From the Journal Obesity:

Eating behavior and obesity at Chinese buffets.

Wansink B, Payne CR. Department of Applied Economics and Management, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, USA.

Abstract

RESULTS: Patrons with higher levels of BMI were more likely to be associated with using larger plates vs. smaller plates (OR 1.16, P < 0.01) and facing the buffet vs. side or back (OR 1.10, P < 0.001). Patrons with higher levels of BMI were less likely to be associated with using chopsticks vs. forks (OR 0.90,P < 0.05), browsing the buffet before eating vs. serving themselves immediately (OR 0.92, P < 0.001), and having a napkin on their lap vs. not having a napkin on their lap (OR 0.92, P < 0.01). Patrons with lower BMIs left more food on their plates (10.6% vs. 6.0%, P < 0.05) and chewed more per bite of food (14.8 vs. 11.9, P < 0.001).


Dr. Grumpy comments:

Now, I know some of you are rolling your eyes at this remarkable piece of research, which basically boils down to "obese people eat more than thin people". But lets think for a minute about the research methods, and what they say about the things people will do to get published:

1. Some poor sucker of a graduate student was told to hang out at the local Chinese buffet.

2. This person had to carefully watch who took what size plates, who was using chopsticks, where people had their napkins, and (most horrifically) actually had to time (was a stopwatch involved?) how long other patrons spent chewing their food.

3. After people left the restaurant (or returned to the buffet) this person had to go make notes on how much partially-eaten food was left on plates (wouldn't this attract the suspicion of other diners? Or even the place's manager?).

4. I want to know how ANYONE, fat or thin, is able to serve themselves by going down the buffet with their back to it (1st sentence of the abstract). Certainly you'll lose weight if you're not going to take food. But if you're not going to eat anything, what's the point of going to a restaurant in the first place?

5. While it's not noted in the abstract, did the department at least reimburse this poor sucker for going to the restaurant? I personally think that should be covered under the research budget. And, if multiple trips to the restaurant were required to write the paper, how much weight did the author gain (or lose) during that time?

6. Do these findings hold up at other buffet types? Like pizza, Mongolian barbecue, or Las Vegas?

7. Can I volunteer to do similar research on a cruise ship (if the department is paying for it, of course)?

Friday Afternoon Follies

And people wonder why my hairs leap off like lemmings...


Mr. Helpful: "Hospital medical records, can I help you?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Hi, this is Dr. Grumpy. I need to get an MRI report on Harry Krotch."

Mr. Helpful: "Certainly. One moment please. Which report did you need, again?"

Dr. Grumpy: "His brain MRI."

Mr. Helpful: "Which one?"

Dr. Grumpy: "How many has he had?"

Mr. Helpful: "Just one."

Dr. Grumpy: (sigh) "Yes, I need that one."

Mr. Helpful: "The one from 2003?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

Mr. Helpful: "The report is in storage."

Dr. Grumpy: "Is that off site?"

Mr. Helpful: "No, it's downstairs. I can get it in a few minutes."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, I'll take it."

Mr. Helpful: "It will be a while. I'm going to lunch now."

Alrighty, then

From another doctor's note:

"His father, mother, and all of his other parents died of cancer."

Skool Nerse Time

This is Mrs. Grumpy. I dragged the kids to the dentist today, to learn Craig has a cavity. So I went up to the gum-chewing-queen to make an appointment to deal with that.

Gum Queen: "Waddya need?"

Nurse Grumpy: "I need to make an appointment for Craig."

Gum Queen: "Okee dokee li'l smokee, when'ja wanna come back?"

Nurse Grumpy: "Next week works. What do you have then?"

Gum Queen: "We got all day. You pick."

Nurse Grumpy: "Um... How about 8:00 on Wednesday morning?"

Gum Queen: "We don't open till 9:00."

Nurse Grumpy: "Okay, how about 9:00 on Wednesday?"

Gum Queen: "We're closed next Wednesday. Doctor is out."

Nurse Grumpy: "What about Tuesday at 9:00?"

Gum Queen: "On Tuesdays we don't open until noon."

Nurse Grumpy: "Look. What do you have? Tell me when, and we can be here."

Gum Queen: "Whenever you want to come in."

Nurse Grumpy: "I've given you 3 times, and you said I couldn't. So pick a time next week, and I'll bring him in."

Gum Queen: "I don't know when you should. I'm off next week, so it's not like I'm gonna know what's going on anyway."

Nurse Grumpy: "Will someone be here next week?"

Gum Queen: "Schedule says so."

(long pause)

Nurse Grumpy: "I think I'll just call next week."

Gum Queen: "I ain't gonna be here."

Nurse Grumpy: "Yes. Have a nice day."

That brain tumor can wait 4-8 weeks, can't it?

I'd like to thank my reader Lauren, who says a neurosurgeon in her town recently faxed this letter to his referring physicians. I can only hope they have someone else to refer to.

(click to enlarge)

Maybe you SHOULD try this at home

I'd like to thank my reader bb for submitting this.

Trucker pulls own tooth, draws driving charge

July 5, 2010 | 12:02 PM ET
CBC News

An Ontario truck driver doing his own dental work while at the wheel has been charged by provincial police.

Officers pulled over a tractor-trailer on Highway 402 near Sarnia, Ont., on June 30 after another driver reported a truck travelling erratically.

When they stopped the driver, they found he was trying to extract his own tooth and steer the truck at the same time.

Police said the driver had tied a string around the tooth and then attached the string to the roof of the cab, waiting for what police said was "one good bump" to pull the tooth out.

To read the rest of the article, click here.

Wednesday afternoon

Mary interrupted me when I was with a patient. A doctor who's never sent me a patient needs to talk to me urgently.


Dr. Grumpy: "This is Ibee Grumpy."

Dr. Doesntrefertome: "Hi! I need you to do a spinal tap on one of my patients. Urgently, like, this afternoon."

Dr Grumpy: "What's going on?"

Dr. Doesntrefertome: "I think she has meningitis."

Dr. Grumpy: "That's serious. You need to send her to ER."

Dr. Doesntrefertome:: "I don't want to send her to ER. Can't you do it in your office?"

Dr. Grumpy: "I don't do them in my office. I haven't had a spinal tray here for years. She needs to go to ER."

Dr. Doesntrefertome: "That's ridiculous! What kind of neurologist doesn't do taps?."

Dr. Grumpy: "I do them, I just don't do them in the office. I don't have the space or equipment."

Dr. Doesntrefertome: "This lady is SICK, dammit! You need to get a tray and do one. TODAY!"

Dr. Grumpy: "Then she needs to go to ER. If she really has meningitis, this is an emergency. She needs urgent evaluation and treatment. Send her to local ER. I can consult on her there. But this sort of thing shouldn't be worked up in the office."

Dr. Doesntrefertome: "This lazy attitude is why I don't refer to you." (hangs up phone)

Things that make me grumpy

Yes, it's election season in America, again.

My international readers likely think this only happens every 4 years, when we elect some poor sucker to be President. But we have mid-term elections every 2 years. And there's pretty much some local election 1-2 times a year, for mayor, or dog-catcher, or dirt lot inspector. Or we're voting on some proposition to raise/lower taxes or build/not build a school/landfill/baseball stadium. Voting is a way of life here.

I have nothing against democracy. But it has a dark side (not including the politicians).

I HATE all those damn signs that start to show up on street corners and vacant lots this time of year. By the boatload. They seem to spring up overnight. And never come down.

It's the last part that really drives me nuts. Months after an election is over, the signs will still be up. The winner is too busy to take them down. The loser is too depressed to do the same. And so they sit there as an eyesore, until it's time for the next election. Then they get pulled down by the next crop of office-seeking idiots.

My political career is limited. When I was 12 I ran for treasurer of my 7th grade class, and lost. I don't think I ran a very good campaign. For that matter, I really don't think I knew what a treasurer did. I honestly have no idea why I did it. I suspect it had something to do with recently having noticed girls (in retrospect, I don't think the class treasurer got the chicks).

But my school had a damn good rule about elections: The winners wouldn't be announced until every damn sign was gone. Granted, I know that's impractical on a nationwide scale, but there's got to be some answer to deal with these eyesores. Why can't we restrict it to signs can't be up more than 30 days before and 30 days after an election? Violators will be fined/disqualified/sterilized.

On a side note, I strongly believe in the political theory proposed in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" that anyone who actually wants to be President/Prime Minister/Chief Goombah so badly to run for the office is automatically too insane to hold the job. We need to find a way to identify the person who is least interested in the job, and then put them in charge. Just don't let them figure out what they're really doing.

Does it have a seat warmer?

Okay, for those of you who loved the walker locked to a street sign from last week, my reader Greg has submitted this wheelchair locked to a bike rack.

In snow.

Thank you, Greg!





15% off a scrubs jacket purchase with coupon code "jackets_t3c"

Good thing it's not lunchtime, yet

Dr. Grumpy: "Are you allergic to any medications?"

Mr. Taco: "Mexican food gives me gas."

Sentence structure- It means something

This ad for a charity really could have been worded better.





From Fail Blog.

Monday Afternoon Reading

With my office closed today for the 3-day weekend, we took the kids back to the waterpark. While relaxing in the shade I caught up on my reading and learned that:

1. Patients with Alzheimer's disease have a higher rate of memory loss than people without Alzheimer's disease (Neurology Reviews, May, 2010).

2. Multiple Sclerosis patients with balance problems have a higher rate of falls than MS patients without balance problems (Clinical Neurology News, May, 2010).

3. I suspect one or both of the above studies could have been written by a lady who I saw at the park, who was chewing out a lifeguard because she (gasp!) got wet while floating on the lazy river.

More Acronyms From Hell (AFH)

I'd like to thank Whitney for submitting this. She says it was proudly displayed at her Pharmacy School.

(click to enlarge)

4th of July

Today we went to the waterpark. Among the posted rules, I was horrified to see "Local Waterpark is not responsible for sunburn."

WTF is the world coming to? People are actually suing waterparks for sun exposure? Isn't the sun something you encounter, like air and water? Isn't there already a boatload of info out there about such things as sunscreen or protective clothing? Are people really this stupid? (sigh, I know)

It's a good thing they had that notice up, because when Craig and I went on the lazy river there was a guy going around it endlessly, snoring away, and being gradually transformed into a leather handbag.

One water slide that Marie really likes turns you sideways as you go down it, and you swing back and forth between 2 high sides, gradually coming to a stop. While we were waiting in line for our 3rd time there was suddenly a loud scream, and as we watched a teenage girl came down the slide- followed a few seconds later by her bikini top. The girl was frantically trying to cover herself and hold onto the inner tube at the same time, to the great amusement of pretty much everyone. The girl didn't seem very happy about the round of applause she earned, or the multiple requests for an encore.

My kids spend all their time at waterparks doing one of 5 things:

1. Playing together.

2. Playing apart.

3. Fighting because they are playing together.

4. Fighting because they are playing apart.

5. Whining about other topics.

As a result, Mrs. Grumpy and I spend a fair amount of time trying not to referee these disputes. We hide from the kids. Usually the days end when they all find us at once.

Then they bitch and moan about having to go home, claiming they'd just started having fun.

Open to interpretation

I got dragged in to see a hospital consult this morning. The admitting physician's note featured this:

(click to enlarge)

Back to the Future

This afternoon we took the kids to see Toy Story 3. And, of course, the obligatory previews.

Watching the previews (and the movie), there were 2 themes that seemed remarkable:

1. Digital animation and special effects get more awesome every year.

2. Our music tastes in movie soundtracks are still living in the 1970's and 1980's.

It's not like they've stopped making music since the mid-80's. Maybe using these soundtracks increases the appeal to adults (I'm not complaining, believe me. Just making the observation). Maybe it's all they can think of. Maybe it's cheap. But consider:

Toy Story 3 (itself a franchise 15 years old, which is really hard for me to believe) features the songs "Dream Weaver" (Gary Wright, 1976) and "Le Freak" (Chic, 1978).

Movies shown in the previews included the upcoming animation flicks:

Alpha and Omega, about 2 wolves, featuring "Hungry Like the Wolf" (Duran Duran, 1982).

Megamind about a superhero and his arch-foe, featuring "Highway to Hell" (AC/DC, 1979)


Not only that, as if the 1980's revival thus far of 2010 (The A-Team, Clash of the Titans, Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Karate Kid) isn't enough, movies coming out in the rest of 2010 include:

Tron- Legacy (original Tron, 1982) which will feature Bruce Boxleitner and Jeff Bridges again.

Red Sonja (Original Red Sonja, 1985) which I'm assuming will not feature Arnold Schwarzenegger this time.

And even more frightening, 2011 is bringing us a new Smurfs movie.

Saturday afternoon, 12:37 p.m.

"Um, hello, I need to see a neurologist. I have seizures, caused by seeing red and blue flashing lights. So I need some sort of note saying that cops can't ever pull over a car that I'm driving, no matter what, because it would be bad for my health. It should be, like, something that should be in the police database so that all cops everywhere know that they can't pull me over. I also sometimes have seizures triggered by being near cops, and they need to know that, too. No one else will write these notes for me, and this is really urgent, so I need to get in right away, before my court date. Please call me back."

So if the walker is there, where's the patient?

I'd like to thank my reader Boris for submitting this picture. It's of a walker, bike-locked to a street sign. He says he took the shot last week in front of a pharmacy.

Patient quote of the day

"I have blood pressure spontaneously. I mean, I don't always have blood pressure, because most of the time I don't, but sometimes, out of the blue, it occurs."

Blatant Plagiarism

Okay, gang, my esteemed colleague The Frantic Pharmacist wrote a post yesterday about life in the pharmacy biz that was so awesome I just have to share it here.

When Will Other Businesses get their act together and run like a pharmacy?

by Frantic Pharmacist

When you think about it, retail pharmacy is sort of a unique undertaking, and after a long day filled with customers' inattentiveness, strange requests, weird questions, lack of information, non-English speaking interactions, half-believable stories and total guesswork as to what THE HELL they really want I keep wondering what other retail businesses would do if faced with our average day.

For instance, I tried to imagine, the......

TOP TEN THINGS OVERHEARD IN A FURNITURE STORE THAT RUNS LIKE A PHARMACY

1. "I need to get a dining room chair -- well, maybe more of a bar stool or a recliner.... I got one a while ago, it may have been blue or green, but it's some sort thing you sit on, anyway, made by company starting with 'S' or "W".....could you check your computer to see if I've ever bought anything like that before and can I get another one? Go ahead, read me the list and I'll see if anything rings a bell."

2. I talked to someone in your Chicago store who said they would figure out what it was and then call you and have you put it aside for me. I don't know who I talked to . Can you call them?

3. if I describe my dining room to you can you tell me what I might need or what's missing? -- and then how much it (whatever it is) will cost?

4. I have a discount coupon for some kind of chair or table but I didn't bring it with me. Can you look me up on your mailing list to prove that I did get one in the mail so you can give me the discount price? Or, can you call my wife/husband at home and they will read it to you? How long will that take?

5. My neighbor's' going to pay for it. You'll have to call him to get his credit card number.

6. I think I bought a sleeper sofa back in 1989 that was only $200. Why is it more now? It's always been $200.... or maybe it was a desk......anyways I know I bought it here.

7. I'm having company tonight -- can you give me a couple of chairs to get me through the weekend and I'll (maybe) come back next week and get the rest.

8. I need six of them, but once you get it loaded in my car and the paperwork is totally complete I'll probably change my mind and only decide to take three.

9. I lost that lamp I bought 2 days ago... is there some way I can get another one without paying for it again?

10. You know what? ---maybe it's actually a rug I'm looking for......

And remember, furniture can't kill you. I think the average furniture store employee would walk away from this pretty fast, but in pharmacy it's just another day.

Damnit, Jim, I'm a neurologist, NOT a marriage counselor

Mrs. Patient: "You can be so difficult."

Mr. Patient: "I'm difficult? Your first husband died at 48 of a heart attack."

Mrs. Patient: "I didn't have anything to do with that."

Mr. Patient: "No. You only stressed him to death."

Mrs. Patient: "Bullshit. Your first wife committed suicide. That says something about you."

Mr. Patient: "Don't give me any ideas."

Mary, come shoot me. Now.

Mrs. Labz, a PET scan looks at brain metabolism. As you've read in that bastion of medical science, Reader's Digest, it can be helpful in diagnosing a few neurological diseases.

It has it's limitations. For one thing, it cannot tell me if you have one of these illnesses by doing the test on your dog.

PET stands for Positron Emission Tomography. It does not mean we can learn things about you by testing Fluffy.

Fluffy is cute, but you didn't need to bring her to your appointment. She's scaring Ed.

Have a nice day.

Acronyms From Hell (AFH)

Medicine is full of acronyms and abbreviations. Our long words, ancient Latin names for just about everything, and mix of chemistry phrases, results in many things that are too long to say or write. So we shorten them to a few letters.

Some acronyms are better than others. While catching up on some reading, I stumbled upon this one for Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures. While the acronym makes sense, the writer probably didn't think about how it might sound when spoken.

(click to enlarge)

Mary's Desk, June 30, 2010

Mary: "Can you come in on Tuesday?"

Mrs. Queens: "Of course not. I'm from New York."

(If any New Yorkers out there can explain this logic, I'd appreciate it)

June 30, 1908

One of the most remarkable events in history happened on this date. And it's mostly forgotten.

At 7:14 a.m. a MASSIVE explosion occurred near the Tunguska river in Russia. I'm not exaggerating. The force was somewhere between 5-30 megatons. Think about that: an explosion between 150 to 1000 TIMES the power of the Hiroshima nuclear bomb. And it happened 37 years before the nuclear age began.

And, purely by chance, it happened in a fairly uninhabited part of the Earth.

To this day it's exact cause is unknown, and it's simply called "The Tunguska Event". It's generally believed to have been a meteorite or comet that exploded before hitting the ground.

The shock wave it sent through the ground was a 5.0 on the Richter scale. Every tree in an 8 km (5 mile) radius from the center was killed, and the force of the explosion covered a total of 830 square miles (2,130 square km). An estimated 80 million trees were knocked over by the force- all of them pointing away from the center. A few were left standing, scorched black, with all their branches stripped off. People were knocked off their feet, and windows shattered, hundreds of miles away. The pressure wave was measured as far away as England. For the next several months there was a change in the density of the planet's upper atmosphere.

An eyewitness 40 miles south of the explosion, reported that "At breakfast time I was sitting by the house at Vanavara Trading Post, facing north. I suddenly saw that directly to the north, over Onkoul's Tunguska Road, the sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over the forest. The split in the sky grew larger, and the entire northern side was covered with fire. At that moment I became so hot that I couldn't bear it, as if my shirt was on fire; from the northern side, where the fire was, came strong heat. I wanted to tear off my shirt and throw it down, but then the sky shut closed, and a strong thump sounded, and I was thrown a few yards. I lost my senses for a moment, but then my wife ran out and led me to the house. After that such noise came, as if rocks were falling or cannons were firing, the earth shook, and when I was on the ground, I pressed my head down, fearing rocks would smash it. When the sky opened up, hot wind raced between the houses, like from cannons, which left traces in the ground like pathways, and it damaged crops. Later we saw that many windows were shattered, and in the barn the iron lock had snapped."

There have been other impacts in recorded history, but none this powerful. And, over 100 years later, the scars are still there.



1921: 13 years after the event.





2008: 100 years after the event.

Afternoon patient neologism

"My spine is curved sideways. They said it's skeletonosis."

Marital Counseling

Mr. Joyful came in to follow-up on his back pain today. A few minutes into the appointment his cell phone rang. He reached over and pushed the speaker-phone button.


Mr. Joyful: "This is Ed."

Lady Joyful: "Are you at the doctor's yet?"

Mr. Joyful: "I'm here right now. You're interrupting. What do you want?"

Lady Joyful: "I'm reminding you to talk to him about your anger problems."

Mr. Joyful: "I don't have anger problems. YOU'RE the one with the problems. Like that's anything new!"

Lady Joyful: "Look, Ed. You've been an ass recently, and he needs to give you some happy pills or something."

Mr. Joyful: "No, bitch, you have the problems. I'm fine, except for having to deal with you."

Lady Joyful: "Oh, like it's a pleasure to have to deal with a prick like you. If I have the problems, how come everyone else says you're the one with the issues?"

Mr. Joyful: "By everyone else you mean your dirtball mother?"

Lady Joyful: "Don't bring my mother into this! At least she's not serving time, like your mom!"

Mr. Joyful reached over and hung up the phone.

Mr. Joyful: "Anyway, Doc, the physical therapy didn't help my back at all."

Patient quote of the day

"I worry constantly about my son. I always have, for my entire life. Ever since I was born, I've worried about him. And I'm 38 years old now. That's 38 years of worrying about a 10 year old."

Dear Mrs. Crest,

We're sorry you had to cancel your appointment this morning, but it was understandable. I have kids, too, and sometimes they have medical/dental emergencies that screw up your whole schedule for the day.

So I understand having to take your daughter to the dentist urgently. I'm sorry she had to get a filling, but at least it's nothing serious.

I trust you. I'm not penalizing you for this sort of emergency. It happens. So there was no need to email a picture of your kid's new dental filling to Mary.




For future reference, please don't send pictures. Especially if they involve an urgent visit to a proctologist.

Thank you,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

Just Shoot Me

Miss Pill: "I can't stand the side effects, and it's not helping. I don't want to take it."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, let me write out a schedule to taper off it."

(scribbles on paper)

Dr. Grumpy: "All right, have a look at this. You'll drop to 2 pills a day for a week, then 1 a day for a week, then stop. So you'll be off it in 2 weeks."

Miss Pill: "TWO WEEKS?!!! I can't do 2 weeks! I have to take it at least 3 more months."

Dr. Grumpy: "You just said you wanted to be off it. Why do you have to take it for 2 more months?"

Miss Pill: "I just paid $25 for a 3 month supply. I don't want them to go to waste."

News that leaves me speechless

I'd like to thank The Mother, who submitted this truly remarkable news story from the Emerald Isle over the weekend.





www.herald.ie
By Andrew Phelan
Wednesday June 23, 2010

A REVELLER at a fancy dress party in one of Dublin's best known gay bars attacked her ex-girlfriend in a row over a novelty wrestler's suit.

Sandra Talbot (32) assaulted her ex-partner with a bottle she had hidden under her costume in a fit of rage at the George pub, after more than a year of acrimony following their break-up.

A court heard she lashed out at victim Adrienne Martin in a row that started over a novelty sumo wrestler's suit that Talbot was wearing. The row developed as the victim tried to wave at a man dressed as a Snickers bar, the court heard.

Ms Martin told Dublin District Court how she was left with a large lump on her temple and still suffered from panic attacks because of the incident.

RUINED

Talbot denied any physical contact happened and said Ms Martin had "ruined her life".

Convicting her and fining her €400, Judge Catherine Murphy said she hoped the accused and the "loosely linked group of friends" who had become involved in the court case could put it behind them.

Talbot, of Greenfort Close, Clondalkin, had pleaded not guilty to common assault on Ms Martin at the George on George's Street on Halloween night, 2008.

Ms Martin told the court she was out for the first time in several months, following the death of her sister from a brain aneurysm.

She had been in an on-off relationship with Talbot for three years which had ended in March 2007. During the evening Talbot, who was wearing an inflatable sumo suit, bumped into her. When she turned around, the accused said to her: "Keep smiling, c**t."

Later, a man dressed as a Snickers bar began waving at her and when she went to wave back, Talbot pushed her arm from behind. When she asked what the problem was, Talbot said: "Your arm's in my way."

When she again asked what her problem was, Talbot "flipped" and started screaming abuse at her.

Ms Martin's friend Suzanne Bowes got in between them. Talbot was saying something about Ms Martin's dead sister that she could not hear over the music so she turned her head to listen.

"The next thing, I got a blow to the left side of my head beside the temple," Ms Martin said. "My knees went from under me and I went down. She walked away, laughing and sneering at me. I had a massive lump on the side of my head."

Ms Martin said she saw a Smirnoff Ice bottle fly from the defendant's sleeve. The State solicitor said the prosecution had no evidence that a bottle was used in the assault other than Ms Martin's word.

The accused was escorted out and had to be asked to partially deflate her costume so she could get out the door.

To read the rest of the story, click here.

Grumpus Interruptus

Okay, gang, just a warning. The internet people are allegedly coming out sometime today to try and fix the on-off net problems that have vexed me for the last few weeks. They've told me I may not have access over the weekend. So I may not be able to post for a few days. If I can, I will, but I just don't know.

"You're all grounded! No, not you kids."

Parent brawl erupts at kindergarten graduation

Jun. 24, 2010 08:34 AM
Associated Press

VICTORVILLE, Calif. - Brawling parents interrupted a Southern California kindergarten graduation ceremony.

School officials placed Puesta del Sol Elementary in desert Victorville on lockdown Wednesday morning after a fight broke out among a group of parents.

San Bernardino County sheriff's spokeswoman Karen Hunt says witnesses told deputies several mothers were involved in a verbal argument and it got physical in a field near the ceremony. Several men then jumped into the fray and the incident turned into a brawl.

To read the rest of this story, click here.

Got Cheese?

I'd like to thank my readers JLG and Tracey, both of whom submitted this.


Police: Naked Man Found With Stolen Cheese At Library

Officer Says Man Bathing While Nude In Mens Restroom

WLWT.com News
POSTED: 3:50 pm EDT June 24, 2010

(Cincinnati) Police arrested a man Wednesday evening accused of being naked at the library with a bag full of stolen cheese.

An off-duty police officer working security at the downtown branch of the Cincinnati Public Library said he found 52-year-old Darrell Bess washing himself in the nude about 5:30 p.m. in the men's restroom.

When officers searched his bag, they said they found a knife, a razor, two stolen DVDs and 4 pounds of stolen Parmesan cheese.

To read the rest of this article, click here.