Thursday, September 20, 2012

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

You Are Not the Only Resident of Your Body. God Help Us All.

Another "Hank the Sci Guy" on more creepy crawlies and germs and parasites galore.

Again, I can't seen to embed video, but here's your link for an other kickass video.

So, to summarize: 

As you know, a parasite is a creature than makes its living off another living being. Sometimes they're bad, something's they're really bad, and, Science Guy is trying to convince me, sometimes they're not THAT BAD.

Although I'd prefer to do without parasites in my body altogether thx I WANT TO BE PURE.

Some organisms that help are defined as having a mutualistic symbiotic relationships. This is the case with the about 100 trillion (trillion??!!) microbes that are living inside ourselves at any given moment. How are these beastly horrific parasitic monsters "earning their keep"? I'm so glad you asked. 

They kill harmful bacteria in our noses, they form a protective coating on our skin, and the majority live within our intestines, doing all kinds of necessary bullshit like breaking down the food that mere humans cannot do ourselves (hopefully breaking down the massive amount of Doritos and sushi I consume). These critters and bacteria attempt to teach our immune systems not to generally "freak the fuck out," if I may paraphrase. They spend a good deal of time killing off the harmful bacteria and then after their kickass job is done, they somehow find their way into our guts. Without these good "gut bacteria," let's just say, you'd find yourself rocking the Depends on the regular.

Kids these days are apparently going hog-wild and inserting this "good bacteria" into people using method called "FECAL TRANSPLANTS" which is apparently not a euphemism or a kind way of putting it--it's what you think it is). Which, I'm sorry I cannot stand behind. I CANNOT ABIDE FECAL-MATTER TRANSPLANTS.

We also host a great many parasites and bacteria than do nothing more than mooch off your system, living large on your guts and blood and immune system, and have no other purpose than to propegate their grody species. They apparently do "nothing to us," and yet they gain in their own way. The eyelash mite is a prime example. These tiny little arthropods hang on to your eyelashes and eat your skin and oils, but basically cause no harm and yet live to propgate their own fouls species. Except fucking gross.

God, Jesus, I believe in you, yet I cannot understand your reasoning for placing parasites, amoebas, lice, gnats, and other horrifing atrocities in the world. I cannot understand why people cannot track the germs like red-blooded CrimeStopper Chopper 4 Getaways. It's so easy to track the spread of germs; why doesn't this affect people? Couldn't you have come up with a better solution? I mean, I love you Dear God and Precious Jesus, but I can't help but thing I could have Designed This Shit better. You should have asked me. I could have designed this shit better myself. No offense to Your Holiness.

So here you will find that GROSSNESS ENSUES. Now it's time to freak the shit out.

Parasites are scheming and clever and can take down an animal much much much much bigger than they are.

Parasites that feed on humans are, to put it in less-than-scientific terms: protozoans, the worms, the crawly bugs, and also the "freaky stuff."

PROTOZOA: They can get into your drinking water, or through the saliva of a tick or mosquito that bites you, and their one goal is to TAKE YOU DOWN. Dead. Dead dead deaddsky. Screwed. They aim to kill.

Prime example: Naegleria Fowleri: a.k.a. the MOTHERFUCKING BRAIN-EATING AMOEBA.

You're having a lovely day at the lake or pond, and you take a dip, and this gem of an ameoba wiggles its motherfucking way right the shit up your nose. And then? THEN, makes its way to your forebrain and works its way into your nerve tissue. Your brain swells magnificently, and, then, 98% of the time you die. Bygones. Helpful hint: Please purify your neti-pot water.

Side note: While Neti pots are the greatest invention known to man and impart so much relief, you must be absolutely sure to use sterilized/boiled water to irrigate your sinuses, lest you shove some brain-eating amoebas directly into your skull. You're welcome.

WORMS: Worms are by far the worst kind of parasite. To quote Science Guy: "Parasitic worms are in it to win it. And when I say win it, I mean breed so many worms that they fill your whole body and coming out your nose or your butt." After that, you have to look forward to massive swelling of the legs, arms, breast, and genitals of their victims. Et cetera.

CRAWLY BUGS:  (My personal WORST CASE SCENARIO): These fuckers feed on you from the outside, and this includes bedbugs, scabies, lice, genital crabs, etc. Might be easier to remedy than intestinal bullshit (where you take a few pills and crap out a footlong worm), but doesn't make them any less FUCK HORRIFYING. Lice and bedbugs are my absolute worst fear, because of the unBELIEVable difficulty in getting ride of these motherfathers. Headlice, Body Lice, Public lice. They are a plague. Fuck 'em.

Are you itchy yet?

THE FREAKY ONES: The Botfly lays its eggs under your skin, where they hatch and then feed on you until they are read to "erupt," as it were. And then there's the Candiru, a fish that lives in the Amazon River, and loves the smell of urine. Should you be so foolish as to take a covert piss whilst boating down the Amazon, know that these fuckers will swim up your got damn urethra, your worst mistake, until you need surgical help to remove this motherfucker from your junk. Just, ouch?

Take note. And employ Purell on the regular. And also don't touch everything ever, especially your nose, eyes, and mouth. Just basically don't touch anything ever. It's your gamble.

And fuck flu season for encroaching. Life is hard for little JoJo.



Random fact of the day: In my world where everything has horrible germs on it, and I can't touch anything, I like to delude myself that germs cannot live on paper or cloth. Sometimes it's all that gets me through in life. I try to force myself to not wash my hands after touching papers that people have handed me, or to die a thousand deaths at sorting through some clothes someone donated to me (OK OK I STILL HAVE TO WASH AFTER THAT SECOND PART). But knowing that germs are everywhere, I still like to pretend they're not on fabric or paper. It gets me by, thinking those are safer to touch than, say, doorknobs and toilet flushers and restaurant menus and EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS GODFORSAKEN WORLD. I like to think paper and cloth/fabric can't harbor germs. Even though I know I'm wrong. But let me enjoy my fantasy world.

This holds true except for USPS mail. After I open my mail I wash my hands with a quickness. Because, that's shit's been from New Jersey to Texas to Portland to Seattle and touched by millions of bum-bum germs and I can't have that.

But since you can't soak books in bleach before reading (yea though I've given this much thought and have attempted to perfect a scenario in which this is plausible), I have to take my chances and just bite the bullet and go for it and OMG TOUCH THINGS SOMETIMES.


In other news, Maya is back in Pre-K, and she's taking swimming lessons the same day, so our Mondays and Thursdays are really super busy. Stresses me out, the getting up early and the wrangling two kids just to get Maya home from school (unbuckling the giant heavy baby from her mystery carseat contraption just to take her inside for 340 second to pick up my big girl, the load everyone up, sani some hands, then go home and have Maya take off her shoes, strip down to her nudey pants--

--and wash her hands and wash my hands and use hand-sani again, and clean the baby and clean the lunchbox and just generally disinfect. Coming home from anywhere it far more complicated and stressful than packing up to go OUT, even though going out means loading up the entire house and the proverbial kitchen sink. Because coming home means there has to be a system in place whereby the kids' shoes are off and clothes are off and hands and clothes are cleaned immed before they touch anything. It's touch to wrangle--it's hard with just two kids--how do OCDers with more kids handle it?

Plus, Maya is a major nail-biter and always has her fingers in her mouth. I've trained her well not to touch her eyes or nose, but she bites her nails on the constant. Her fingers are always in the mouth. This makes kitty angry.

 So surely cold and flu germs are having a party in there, all up in her mouth from her grody nails. Good times.

As for swim class, it's driving my nuts. Maya has a good time just bobbing about in the ass soup bum-bum chowder water, but there's got to be more than taking one turn every 6 kids just to take one around a very small swimming zone, with no real instruction (the instructors just carry the kids through the water basically). I look at it like, it's a chance to get poor stifled Maya out of the house and do something that she enjoys, but I can't help wish we were getting our money's worth. They also scam us on time--classes are half an hour but we're lucky to get 20 minutes of time out of it, split among a whole bunch of kids. You can only spend so much tie going over "What's a pool rule?" (where the kids have no idea what he's even asking) or being asked "How do we use a paddle board, to we sit on it? Do we ride it like a horse? Nooooo!" before the kids are finally asked to jump in. And he doesn't teach kids to jump far without help (he underestimates their bravery), or to bob underwater, or other important things. I want some technique taught, and I'm not finding it. Oh well. We'll give it a few more tries before deciding whether to continue.

Either way, having Pre-K and swim on the same day is stressful to the max. I am a person who does not like to have anything on my schedule, anything looming in the future, appointments, dates with friends, doctors, etc. I look at my schedule and see flu shot vax appointments, routine vax appointments, play dates, coffee with a good friend, school, swim, and an upcoming birthday to plan, and I get really overwhelmed. I know I should be able to take this day by day, moment by moment, but I get so caught up in the overwhelmitude.

I just feel like I'm not equipped to deal with daily life. I mean, daily life means getting up early, getting breakfast going, packing lunches, taking the kids to school or playdates, trying to squeeze in the baby's nap, running errands, picking up Maya from school, usually making a Starbucks run for her for a kids' hot chocolate (because she's spoiled like that), and oh yes, cleaning this endless pit of a house that I cannot stay on top of. For someone who panics easily, it's tough to want to do anything or go anywhere, but when I give into that, that's just perpetuates the evil cycle of isolation and loneliness and depression. Then I just stay at home more or want to cancel every appointment on the book or whatever.

I fully expected life to get a little more assbutt difficult after Maya started Pre-K, and I'm trying to take it in stride, but the very moment that Maya comes home with the stomach flu or rotavirus H1N1, my first instinct will be to withdraw her from school again. Which I can't. It's not an option this time. Kid's gotta go to school. Mama has to suck it up.

So I guess we're in for it. A year or two of sick ALL the time,

Gotta put in my big-girl panties and buck up. But it's just so hard. I live with constant stress that eats away at my at night and makes me wake up at 4 am thinking 23749023709432 thoughts, none of which I can really control, but all of which upset me anyway. I'm a work in progress, but I sure as shit hope to see some progress soon.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Fun Friendly Phobic Fact Friday.

"Science Is Fun and Useful"
by Jo

This is one of the most kickass videos I've ever seen. (1) Because this guy is awesome; (2) because the wisdom he imparts is true and important re: the viruses with the highest-known fatality rates; and (3) because this guy is awesome.

So let's do watch.

(Totally can't get it to embed AARRRRGGGHH)

Let's just start with his opening line, "There's a lot of stuff out there that's trying to kill us, right now, and today, I'm gonna talk about the ones that are the best at it. The Five Deadliest Infectious Diseases in the World."

The 10 minute 23 second video is worth your while; however, if you're all tl;dr? and you don't feel like watching the entire thing? Then let me just summarize, BumBumStyle:

  • The Spanish Flu (1917-1918) was a notorious infectious disease, also known as...wait for it...H1N1. It killed more than 30 million people worldwide. ( Now you may recall that in 2009 there was also mass hysteria over a resurgence of the pandemic H1N1, a.k.a. Swine Flu to the point that you could not find face masks or hand sani in any drugstore anywhere.) Anyway, the first outbreak had a case fatality rate of 20%, and apparently, 20% (!!) is so minor in the grand scheme of things that it's not even worth talking about. Bygones. Let's move on, shall we?

  • Let's take Nipah, which has an average case fatality rate of about 50% (other online sources claim up to 75%). It seems that around 1999, pig farmers started coming down with respiratory issues, and inflammation of the brain that caused hallucinations, along with seizures (and should you wonder, no, "not the good kind of seizures," according to SciShow). What.

Outbreaks continued in India and Bangladesh, the disease mainly spread by bats, at which point and in which place the death rate became around 100 mother fucking percent. Are you hearing me. 100%. 

And what's worse, you suddenly didn't need a got-damn bat or pig or a batpig or a pigbat to give you Nipah, you get could get it human-to-human. And then you'd fucking die. Dead. Deceased. Of a miserable death.


In 2001, in Siliguri, India, there were cases of Nipah where 75% of cases were traced back to people who had merely visited the local hospital. Just by being there. In that building. Just by, say, strolling in to give a loved one some pink carnations and a "Get Well Soon" Mylar balloon. Maybe a Peace Lily or two.

"Get well soon! I hope you recover from your Nipah! As if!"

Perhaps best of all, according to the WHO, there is no treatment or vaccine available for either humans or animals. Which might explain why up to 100% of the people infected die dead.
So that is of little interest to you. After all, you do not live in Siliguri, India. So let's talk about H5N1 (commonly known as Bird Flu). 

  • H5N1 didn't used to be easily transmissible to humans, but then scientists went and got all 10-year-old-boy on us and asked, "What would happen if I did this? Let's see if I can do this!! Let me dick around with something! What would happen if I did that? Let's fukkin' blow shit up, man!111@@!"

Apparently, this tinkering made flu transmissible to ferrets, which have (for some reason) the same immune system as humans. Which sucks because this newly and easily transmissible Bird Flu kills at least 54% of people who get it. For fuck's SAKE, ferrets?? Good times. 
There is a government vaccine available for H5N1, but it has apparently been stockpiled and is not available to the public. Good times.


And I quote: "Now Hank, you're saying I'm not a Malaysian bat-handler and I've already stocked my pantry with enough Skittles and Diet Sierra Mist to get me through the Bird Flu pandemic."

So in other words, I'm golden, right? Read on, friends, read on.

  • In 1967, Germany started testing polio vaccines on monkeys from Uganda. Suddenly the scientists came down with wicked fevers, vomiting, diarrhea, massive internal bleeding, and circulatory failure. Good times.

Corellation: Messing with monkey parts = contracting killer diseases. Quit poking around monkey parts, you zoophile.

After further investifuckingation, they eventually isolated the virus known as Marburg Hemorrhagic Fever.

In one year alone, 23% of the scientists exposed died. It shows up everywhere from Africa to the United States, where it kills more than 80%. EIGHTY. PER. CENT. Scientists say that Marburg Hemmorhagic Fever is "the #1 virus you most want to mother fucking got damn avoid," if I may paraphrase. Let's try to do that, people. Start by washing your damn dirty hands and then not messing with monkey parts. But I mean, there is more than one good reason never to mess with monkey parts. For one, that's a hell of a lot of bum-bum germs.

So even if you live in the USA, never handle bats, and have thousands of Snickers and gallons of Orange Crush available in your storm shelter, you are not safe from terrifying diseases.

  • A cousin of Marburg Fever is the Zaire Ebola virus (a.k.a. ZEBOV). It is the second most deadly disease in the world and causes everything from vomiting to fever to failure of blood vessels, which causes bleeding under the skin (groce).  ZEBOV has a mortality rate of 83%, and in the early 2000s, it killed more than 90% of the people infected. That's a shit of a lot, people.

  • As a sidenote, what do these all viruses (virii?) have in common?
All of these viruses are Zoonotic ("transmitted to humans from animals"). Especially from bats. Fuck you, bats. I hate you in the face.

For these and other reasons, let's just avoid adopting your local neighborhood Battus Vampirus, even though it may be precious and have a cute little snout and you want to name it Edward.

Back to our regularly scheduled program about shit what will kill you.

So, after reading about ZEBOV, you're probably wondering, what disease is deadlier than 90% fatal?? This may surprise you, my peeps.

The deadliest disease in the world is not influenza, is not typhoid, is not dysentery,

...but is rabies, with case fatality rate of, oh, you know, whatever, about 100%. Bygones.

What? Like, Spiffy my sweet little Labradoodle can kill my ass? Or rather, what: like, sweet little Cujo can go from this

to this

and I won't have a chance in heaven once symptoms present?

You're saying that man's best friend can harbor the greatest plague known to humanity? Even though there's a vaccine and shit?

Yes, there is a vaccine, but once you've been diagnosed with the symptoms of the disease, you face almost certain death. There is a case fatality rate of p. much 100%.

According to Science Guy, there have been fewer than 10 recorded cases EVER IN THE HISTORY EVER OF THE ENTIRE WORLD EVER of people who have EVER been diagnosed with rabies and who have EVER lived to tell about it. Ever.

Apparently it's a terrible way to go: Early flu-like symptoms, then it targets your central nervous system, and you become agitated, delirious, and have seizures. Then you will experience paralysis, especially of the throat and jaw, making it difficult to swallow liquids (which is why patients avoid water and which is why rabies is known as hydrophobia). Ma! He's got The Hydrophobe!!

Old Yeller,
Come back Yeller,

Best doggone dog in the West.

With rabies, your pulse and blood pressure will vary wildly, and along with other v. unpleasant symptoms like acute pain and mania, then you will experience coma and heart failure respiratory failure and death. 100% of the time.

And although bats have caused all kinds of other really, really bad shit (see above), they usually get a bad rap when it comes to rabies.  Everyone is all, "OMG OMG IT'S A BAT it's going to get stuck in my hair and bite me and I will get the rabies! OMG BATS!" But actually, about 97% of cases in humans come from dog bites. Out, out damn Spot!


This ends your science lesson for the day and your very extensive Fun Friendly Phobic Fact Friday.


Thursday, September 13, 2012

The Salmonella Pot.

So I recently bought a Living Social deal to The Melting Pot, this divine local fondue place where you get salad, bread, a main cheesy fondue course, and then a dessert course (complete with many fruits and cakes to dip in rich molten milk chocolate). (And ooh, with the deal I bought, we get champagne too!)

I've been there twice before.

However, I still have tremendous reservations and massive trepidation.

Here's the deal. You are presented with a platter of totally and completely raw food. This includes veggies, but also raw beef, raw shrimp, and God Jesus Himself help us, raw chicken. Raw. Just right there on the fucking plate, raw dead animals of every kind.

Then you skewer your desired son of a bitch and roast it in broiling oil until your Jesus or your conscience says it's done, at which point you dip your seared flesh into a common pot of cheesy deliciousness and then consume. Hoping all the while that your meat was, indeed, cooked, and that you haven't just contaminated the pot of cheese that you will next dip your bread into.

If that's not a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is.

I mean, how long do you boil chicken in hot savory oil? How long do you boil shrimp? The two are drastically different, and if you make a mistake, woe to your digestive tract. When is a slice of zucchini at its done-point, and when is raw cow seared enough to be safe enough to consume?

Plus, there's the fact that when you go there with friends, you are all eating off your skewers and then dipping them right back into the pot of cheese. I mean, I presume that laying your skewer in boiling oil kills off a herpe or two, but still, the skeeve-factor is there. Slurping food off a stick and then sticking your stick back into the common pot.

Not to mention, the bum-bum germs and raw meat germs that must be present at all times on every single surface around you, since people manhandle raw shit and don't give a damn. All blacklight-hotel-like:

I kind of can't believe I've ever been there. Not to mention twice. Not to mention I just bought a gift certificate for a third visit.

Except that it's fucking delicious.

Monday, September 10, 2012

This Could Be All About Just Letting Go.

So my firstborn went back to school today. Pre-K, my big girl. I am feeling proud, sad, scared, happy, delighted, nervous, horrified, sick to my stomach, overwhelmed, sad, happy, and excited. I'm OCDing it to the max right now but trying to enjoy the fact that my baby is going to have a wonderfully fun experience.

Also. Sometimes a song just grabs you. This is what I heard on the radio as I was sitting here panicking about letting my baby go to school and not knowing how to deal with the accompanying anxiety and terror. I think it's about letting go, and holding on, but I need to know when to let go and when to hold on.

Well, this could be all about just letting go 
Or this could be all about just holding on 

I can't get my feet off of the ground 
I wanna run but I don't know how 
Can You reach down here and pull me out 
Can You pull me out?  

I wanna scream but there's no sound 
I wanna fly to You somehow 
Can You reach me here and pull me out 
Can You pull me out? 

And now I feel like I'm treading water 
And I'm hardly real, I'm just trying harder 
To make my way on the earth by standing still 

Well, this could be all about just letting go 
Or this could be all about just holding on 

I can't get my feet off of the ground 
I wanna run but I don't know how 
Can You reach down here and pull me out 
Can You pull me out? 

I wanna scream but there's no sound 
I wanna fly to You somehow 
Can You reach me here and pull me out 
Can You pull me out? 

Not a moment too soon, You will be my rescue 
But tell me how long will it take? 

I can't get my feet off of the ground 
I wanna run but I don't know how 
Can You reach me here and pull me out 
Can You pull me out? 


To lighten the mood of this post: Here is my usually-gorgeous child, posing less-than-gorgeously for her first-day-of-school photo:

What would you call this look? Nonchalant? Unimpressed? Stroke victim? Completely nonplussed? Meh? 

Anyway. Sniff. My kid is a school-kid again.

Bring on the rhinovirus, bitches.

Sunday, September 9, 2012


So I'm p. much hyperventilating.

Because tomorrow Maya starts at the Cesspool school again. She'll be in Pre-K this year, not just preschool. Kid is grown' up. Sniff.

However. This only means one thing to me: We will all get sick within hours of her playing with blocks, coloring with pens, or sharing books at reading time. We will all come down with horrible cold and flu (and small baby tiny precious blonde blue-eyed God Jesus please help us not catch the dreaded stomach flu or the trots or Captain Trips or Rotavirus). And the best part of knowing that Maya and we will all get sick? Is that this shall continue twice a fortnight until the end of time.

If you recall, Maya went though her first day of school before, last September. I was proud of her, worried for her, and incredibly fucking scared of the germs. Oh and of my child being accosted and tortured. But mostly, I am ashamed to admit, the germs.

And then if you also remember, as expected, Maya promptly got sick like the dog in my entry entitled "Threat Level: Midnight."

It had been a new beginning, a new adventure, something for her to look forward to: Look, back then, at my kid all excited to be a groweds-up!! Going to gee-dee SCHOOL!!

BUT. See, Maya has been on what I like to call a "hiatus," taking a sabbatical if you will (pursuing her Ph.D in Play-Doh 101 and her masters in Dirt-Sculpture-Making for the Under Five Crowd, and learning in depth the philosophy behind how to play XBox's Harry Potter and Spelunky.

She was taken out of school, as of last Christmas because (1) she wasn't loving and appreciating school (a gentler way of phrasing her frothing split-pea-spewing beard-rending sackcloth-tearing fits whenever we woke her up at 7:30 am to go to school); (2) it was very pricey and we wanted to save money, especially on a school my kid didn't love; and (3) MOTHERFUCKING COLDS IN OUR MOTHERFUCKING NOSES EVERY MOTHERFUCKING WEEK.

It was just unreal. I couldn't take another second of it. The baby, who was only 4-5 months old at the time, was sick constantly, once for six weeks straight. And she was so new and so fragile and did not handle colds well, getting so congested that I literally thought she'd choke and die in the middle of the night. Silently. Once, on our way to a restaurant to enjoy a little family time, we skipped our plans for a meal and made a quick, last-miunte detour to the local ER because she was struggling so hard to breathe and it sounded like she was fighting to get any air in and was going to suffocate any minute. I was panicking every second of that 10-minute drive. Fuck. I don't know how many people get this, but the common cold can be scary shit.

And might I interject, that since removing Maya from school before Christmas, we have not caught one single solitary cold or flu. Not even a sniffle. Not even a throat tickle. Not one. Nothing. So it's all those filthy little bastards who do not know to wash their hand after the use the potty and who do not sneeze into their sleeve and who dig for gold up they got-damn noses and and then offer my child a bite of their Bunny-Grahams.


I like to think now at almost a year and a half years of age, the baby Naomi is stronger and heartier (God knows this child is build like a truck (or built like my one true love, Edgar Martinez)).

Thighs like what. what. what.

And Naomi is so strong and determined and hearty and wily and mischievous and just a ball of fire than I think she can fight off colds more easily, or deal with them more easily as them come. Well, part of me logically thinks so and the other part of me is screaming, "We will have a nicely lovely playdate with some favorite neighbors and enjoy some apple juice and Goldfish and then Naomi will chew on her playmate's Sophie the Giraffe and then catch a cold and will fill head to toe with mucous and die. Dead. Dead of rhinopharyngitis."

Sorry, you played with a kids' favorite rubber toy and now you shall die of dystentery. Fuck you, Sophie.

Or that Maya will have come home from a lovely day at school fingerpainting and baking cookies and playing telephone and cooking in the play kitchen and making macaroni art, and the she will breathe in the vicinity of the baby who will instantly perish.

Because every other time that Naomi has caught one of Maya's (trillions of) colds, she got incredibly sick and churned out snot the way the Amish churn out butter and caught horrible double ear infections and sinus infections like it was her job. Every time. So yeah. Who knows if the baby is stronger now or not. Time will tell.

But still. Maya is off hiatus, is beginning Pre-K tomorrow, and will be bringing home God only knows what kinds of diseases. I can't say I'm prepared for the Onslaught of Sick, but I know it's coming. I know it's coming. I'm trying to steel myself for the inevitable, but that doesn't mean I don't feel like taking two handfuls of Xanax, 27 Klonopin, and two bottles of our very best $3 red wine to try to soothe my worries.

Light a candle for me, child.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Misheard Lyrics, Bum-Bum Style.

While I'm sitting here being all sick and miserable, I thought I'd blog some total bullshit. To brighten your day and mine. And yes, if you are my FB friend, you know I've posted these ALL OVER CREATION because apparently I think I'm a wizard, a genius. But I happen to think it's the funniest thing since, well, since my last funny blog post.

I got nothin' else for ya. Because I'm sick like the dog. But. I've been on a kick lately of transcribing hard-to-understand lyrics, especially from songs I've never heard before. I've done a few of these by now, but I think these are a couple of my crowning achievements.

This is supposedly "I'm Alright" by Kenny Loggins. I double dog dare you to listen to this song and read MY lyrics and just try to tell me I'm mistaken.

So on this dreary sick Saturday afternoon, I now present to you, "Memorite," by Jo:

Damn a right
Nobody better found me
I ain't gotta give me advice
Get ya just let it pee

No, nobody better 'bout me
You've gotta give me advice
Why don't you just let me pee

Do what you like
Do it in a net, say,
But if it's too freezy, 
the color just a game.

It's your life,
Isn't it a mystery
If it snow buddy's been there
Cuz everybody's game

So catch someday, all right!
No, now save it for the runway
Set safe the railing
Who yeah get you gonna get you with the dog

Doo doo doo doo doo doo

And the night
Nobody lookin' 'bout me
Why you gotta give me a thigh 
Can't you just let it pee

Don't nobody better bout me
You've got to give me a fly
Why don't you just let me pee

Who do you whoa
Who you gonna bitty thing
Who is a feeling
Make it up your my hind

You wanna listen to the mayor
Pay attention to the man's a steak
And belly gotcha in the moo
Listen to your hard beatin'

Hard beatin'
Hard beatin'

Don't it get your gloves on
Feels, you baby feel good

Let's see your nails

?? [Even Jo can't translate this shit] ??

Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

Am I right?
Nobody better bout me
Why you gotta give me a thigh?
Can't you just let it pee

Am I right?
No, nobody better than me
You've got to give me a thigh
Don't you just let me pee

Am I right?
Nobody better than me
Why you gotta give me a thigh?
Can't you just let it pee?

Am I right?
Just let me pee.

Am the night
And the light
Just let me pee!
Hey damn!


 (poor dude just wants to pee!!)


And if that one doesn't do it for you, well, you know I've got another. I had never before in my life heard "Yellow Ledbetter" by Pearl Jam, but I'm pretty sure I nailed the actual lyrics. Here I give you "Gobadoh," by Jo:

All a feeling, on a voice of little things
There's a sail, I wanna leave it again
Walk the dog hell, on a piece of little fee
On a sea, I wanna leave it again

On a reeling, on a wizard on a way, yeah
Ban a gold on a say than I wone wanna say that I gold out of a me
Damn the risen on a leave of gobadoh
I fed, I know what I will all about sole a back
A yeaaaah

Now you see them 
Ohhh Mama knows
Well I beg a my way, the house
The heya, bound a buoy yeah
And I know what I know I don't wanna pee.

Baby cries.

I don't know what a something, hell
On a gumball, on a whale
I betta, I don't I don't know ah well as a fox sold a fax
aw yeaaaaah

Now you see there
Oh a boy
Yeah, I make up my way
My tail, round up my way, yeah
And I know what I know, I don't wanna see you
I don't wanna staaaaaay
I don't wannna stayeeeeee
I don't wanna stay



Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all well. Also taking requests.

Now back to this regular old sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever kind of day.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Is This the Alanis Morissette Definition of "Ironic"?

And.........wait for it........we're all sick.

That's right. We finally get out of the house, do some fun shit, touch some fun things, and all come down with nasty colds. Who would have thought, it figures.

Take-home lesson: Never, ever, ever leave home again.

Mr. Hughes had the right idea.