Sunday, September 20, 2015

Segue to Better topics; I can blog but can't do much else

I came across a recent article alleging that this picture epitomized not jubilation, romance, or anything positive, but , rather, sexual assault. I'm glad the event took place during  society's more innocent times.

Those of you who took the time either here or elsewhere to comment left many delightful replies. I'll somewhat address most of them (all of them if I don't go Alzheimer's on you) in this blog as opposed to leaving multiple responses. I apologize if I miss anything, but please know both that A) I appreciate the time you left in responding; and B) I've both read and thoroughly enjoyed each response.  I also recognize that, while we all like to be appreciated for our efforts, I'm not the center of everyone's universe, and should I fail to reference anyone's reply somewhere in one of my rather verbose blogs, for most of you, life as you currently know it will go on, and you will not slit your wrists or overdose on hydrocodone or Xanax or Exlax.

[Incidentally, I wouldn't recommend Exlax for that purpose. While I would willingly spend all day and night if necessary (even skipping a test and taking the zero if there were no other way; that's how important YOU are) using my limited counseling skills to attempt to dissuade anyone from making the grand exit before a person's medical condition has made the decision a non-decision, even my limited medical knowledge allows me to know that Exlax is not the method one should use if one is determined that suicide is the only answer.]  Actually, I suppose I should tell the person contemplating suicide to go ahead and use Exlax, because the chance of it being successful for that purpose unless one is in a place where he or she will not be found for days is  virtually nil unless one has appendicitis or a severely obstructed bowel. So yes, go ahead with Exlax if you're thinking of ending it all. Take the whole box. [Good luck in getting an entire box down, as it is roughly as tasty as the human by-product it induces]. Then someone a bit more qualified than I will see you in the E.R, where you'll feel miserable and need lots of rehydration, anti-nausea meds,  and probably some Fentanyl for the cramping, but you'll probably live to tell of the ordeal. Also, remind me to tell you of my ninth-grade science project involving Exlax and Immodium.] (If, God forbid I've underestimated your state of mental health and/or my relative importance in your world, please contact me or someone who knows more than I RIGHT AWAY so that someone can assist you you in gaining access to competent emergency mental health expertise immediately; I'm usually being snarky, but right now I'm not. If you need genuine help, please allow someone to help you to get it.)

First and foremost, no one said anything (Becca commented the first time I used it many times ago; I'll probably keep using the picture over and over in the future at least as many times as I've used in in the past) but isn't that picture of Pee Wee Herman peering out at viewers through the inside of an anal orifice not one of the most utterly delightful discoveries since someone came up with all the fake UFOs in Area One? (I have a relative of a relative who's a certified Ufologist - his certification is probably about as legit as Knotty's dear friend's is in a different domain, but that's a subject for another day's blog. And, by the way, if you're a bona fide Ufologist, let me know and I'll drop the subject and not bring it up again; I don't desire to hurt anyone's feelings.)  

The Pee Wee Herman photo obviously cannot compete in terms of sheer dramatic effect with the horrific photo of little nine-year-old Kim Phuc running down a small Vietnamese village stark naked after having been struck by U.S. forces with napalm.  I don't really think any picture comes close to competing with that one, other than, in a slightly less dramatic yet more poignant way,  perhaps that of of the Oklahoma City first responder carrying the still-living body of the tiny child, whose name we would later learn was Bailey,  who ultimately and unfortunately did not survive Tim McVeigh's attack. 

Segueing to a less depressing genre, the Pee Wee Herman photo lacks the spontaneity of the emblematic picture of the  random sailor in Times Square grabbing and kissing the first woman he saw upon learning that Harry Truman had just announced Japan's surrender and the end of World War II. That is, of course, unless, Pee Wee spontaneously came across the plastic over-sized anal orifice, and his tongue-wagging gesture was one of pure spontaneity, in which case I take back everything I previously said about that European soldier's photo displaying more pure un-staged and impromptu joie de vivre. If such is the case, Pee Wee wins hands-down.  

More likely, though, the genius in the Pee Wee Herman/colonic end photographic effort was a combination of the work of an incredibly talented prop master, a gifted photographer, and Pee Wee [Paul Reubens] himself, who, alleged moral turpitude aside, had the ability to take what might have been for anyone else a run-of-the-mill photo op and turn it into a work for the ages.

Enough for now about Pee Wee and larger-than-life acrylic anuses . . . we'll move on to new but not necessarily more salient topics.


  1. To tie up lose ends, did the play ever pay you any money? Remember that you thought they may be planning to do that? Also thanks for saying that you read my posts. Here is an old joke. How do knock the crap out of Superman? With Exlax!

    Happy International Peace Day! Tomorrow, Monday is International Peace Day. Here is the U.N. feed that happens all weekend and Monday.

    Also how do you think the last name of Kim Phuc is pronounced? Also you did not complain about the hospital at all. Are you still in the hospital or did you go home. I guess tomorrow we are supposed to focus on others instead of focusing on ourselves so much.

  2. I received a gift of a $100 pre-paid Visa from the cast.

    I hope that the surname Phuc is pronounced in such a way that it rhymes with "spook."

  3. 1i'm still in the pokey. The food sucks and i'm bored, but otherwise i'm getting there. My WBC count is hovering close to 800. I need it tb be about 1,200 before i'm likely to be paroled.

    the staff is doing a slightly better job at not acting as though since my parents aren't here, they can treat me like a Russian orphan. I relied upon my paralegal training to draft a letter complaining that they were consistently not getting menus to me in time for me to make meal choices, leaving me with the default meal of he day. i'm too picky an eater to survive on a hospital's default menu. i would seriously rather die than eat certain foods.

    Also, in addition to a few of my professors ccomplaining, they found out that my father is important in the local medical community, which caused an administrator to call the director of nursing o the carpet. she 9the director of nurses) hates e now even if she didn't before, but she does not dare look at me without smiling sweetly, and she's apparently made it clear to the staff that if she gets into anymore trouble because of anything they say or do or do not do to me,the guilty party will go down with her at least as far as she goes and probably further. I have a spy in the inside. Timmy, my friend, dates a charge nurse from the floor directly above us.

  4. That sounds dreadful. I would hate to be stuck in a hospital with some nurse who hates me yet smiles sweetly at me. It doesn't sound like a healing environment at all.

    I really hope you are sprung today. As for me, I will be going in to have a tooth yanked this afternoon. The idea of it is very unnerving, but at least I'm not in the hospital with passive aggressive nurses. So thanks for the positive perspective of how things could be worse.

    I hope to be loopy on Valium later.

  5. This has been going on too long! I hope you're home soon.

  6. Are you okay? One reason that I love to get your latest post is that I know how you doing. The place that I write for, for 5 years just placed an advanced grammar checker and spell checker. I am surprised how little they found. Unless they are going to find a lot more. Imagine perfect copy. They caught one mistake that said "a hour" instead of "an hour."

    Also did you know that in the U.S. in the 1800s, not now, it was legal for an adult male to have sex with a 9 year old girl? Under what conditions was that?

  7. Some strange laws have apparently been in place over the years.

  8. Some strange laws have apparently been in place over the years.