Caffeine Thou Art Mine Saviour

Stolen from Marko the Munchkin Wrangler

Great way to waste 30 seconds of your life and test out the old trigger finger on the mouse!

I Love This City!

Peepaw.

A big thanks to Lisa, who sent me this picture.


Philadelphia, birthplace of freedom, city of brotherly love is apparently the romance capital of the country. Want proof? OK here it is. This is a picture taken at the intersection of Cottman Ave and State Rd. in the northeast section of Philadelphia. The gentleman is a flower vendor. Enough said! Romance Capital of the Country. I rest my case.

They are New Yorkers, How much damage could I do?

Well, nothing is official yet, but it looks like we will be headed to Brooklyn, NY sometime in late May to start my clinical rotations. Those of you with sick loved ones in the area, take appropriate measures.

After a few stress-filled weeks of waiting, the good people at my school's clinical office have graced me with a response; and it seems that the New York area will have availability for yours truly in May. The Baltimore area is booked up through July and since we would like to stay on this side of the pond, Big Apple here we come.

Guess I should work on my Brooklyneese.

So far, I only know one phrase. I can say, "I disagree with your previous statement, in fact I believe you are quite misinformed."

It is pronounced: Getdafugattaheah !

The North American Carpet Shark

Weighing in at just under 20 lbs and measuring about 2 feet in length, the diminutive Carpet Shark does not appear very threatening. In fact the Carpet Sharks looks quite cute. Looks however, can be deceiving.

Sharkus shagrugius, commonly known as the North American Carpet Shark, is a highly evolved eating and defecating machine and general agent of chaos that wreaks havoc throughout millions of homes in America.

Officially a mammal, this versatile ankle-biter earns the "shark" moniker for its freakishly keen senses and predatory skills. Much in the same way an aquatic shark can detect a drop of blood in an Olympic sized swimming pool, this land based creature has the uncanny ability to detect anything in the vicinity that it can mete out destruction upon. Scientists, to date, are unable to locate the specialized organ that the Carpet Shark uses to detect its prey, some suspect it is housed in the creature's rosy apple-cheeks. In its ocean-going cousin this structure has been identified as the Ampullae of Lorenzini.

Nevertheless, its feats of detection are legendary. The Carpet Shark we have in our home now, for instance, is able to sense, as far as 2 rooms away, when an object such as a remote control has been laid too close to the edge of a table. It will immediately stop what it was doing (usually using its 4 very sharp teeth to redesign a wooden windowsill or testing the structural integrity of furniture) and use its impressive speed to scurry across the carpet and attack the unsuspecting object; visiting its particular brand of dental punishment upon the hapless item. Ours seems to have a penchant for electrical cords fireplaces, and cat food bowls, foregoing the usually effective, and quite expensive, multi-colored Shark Distraction Toys.

In an effort to stave off such senseless and brutal attacks, my wife and I have developed a corralling system of barriers and road-blocks to wrangle the slippery critter. The Shark will not be deterred so easily it seems, as it has employed some sort of defense that involves emitting a high pitched, pulsating scream that serves to disorient and confuse its captors. It has, on occasion, even resorted to sinking its 4-pack of toothy terror into our own flesh! The struggle goes on.

Pictured below is a photo of our "cute" but viscous Carpet Shark. This particular one was bred in captivity on a small island in the Caribbean and transplanted here several months ago.



Please exercise EXTREME caution and due diligence when dealing with this deceptively dangerous denizen of the dining room.

Good Old Google

Writing this blog, I must admit, is pretty fun for me. I get to vent and put up whatever drivel on here that I want. Occasionally a debate breaks out in the comments section and that is just fine with me. It gets people talking sometimes. One of the really neat things for me is checking out who is reading my blog. Through my site meter I get to see what part of the world a reader is in and how they got to my blog. For instance was it via a link from another blogger's site or a search engine etc.

Today I laughed so hard I nearly spit oatmeal out of my nose. Apparently someone in Australia came across my blog, in what I can only describe as a accident. He (she) apparently went to Google and typed in the following search phrase:

How to do an episiotomy* in cattle

Imagine the surprise when he landed on my little blog!

My blog may be a lot of things but I think Repository of bovine surgical techniques has got to be WAY down on the list.

Go ahead try it; you know you want to! Type it in and see for yourself: I will be the 3rd link listed.

I couldn't make this up!


*For those of you that don't know, an episiotomy is the incision made in the perineum (between the vagina and the anus) to facilitate birthing.

Proud to be Irish? NOT ME!

Traditionally the day set aside for speaking in a fake brogue, drinking green dyed beer, and generalized shenanigans, today is St. Patrick’s Day (moved by the Roman Catholic church to today from 3/17 to avoid conflict* with Holy Monday). Hallmark to today’s festivities is the festooning ourselves with a vast array of tchotchkes from leprechaun hats and shamrock pins to Kiss me I’m Irish T-shirts. We do love our T-shirts! One slogan however, got me thinking: Proud to be Irish.

According to my dictionary, Pride is defined as a reasonable or justifiable self-respect. Is it reasonable or justifiable to be proud of something that is devoid of any accomplishment or even effort? I mean, if I walked around with a T-shirt that said, Proud to Have Brown Eyes or Proud to Have Opposable Thumbs, it would be rather ridiculous. I have those characteristics by way of sheer genetic chance and through no achievement of my own. Being Irish is no different.

We should probably reserve pride for things we actually do. But I suppose this would mean that we actually have to do something. Who's got time for that?

Allow me to go off the reservation for just a moment:

Why are we so quick to add descriptive monikers to ourselves? Irish-American, Italian-American, and African-American are some of the labels still bandied about today; but why are they even relevant? At the end of the day, aren't we are all the same soul-less thought-less consumer pawns of the industrial capitalist complex anyway? ;-)

Isn't it enough to call ourselves American? Unfortunately, I suspect the answer is no.

We aren’t one people with shared principles and common culture. We are a loosely connected amalgam of tribes that have their own agenda, culture, and sometimes even their own language. Some would say that this is what makes America great, diversity. I am not entirely convinced. I think it would be an admirable feat of diversity that we could, coming from many different backgrounds, forge a unique identity for ourselves as Americans, foregoing the unnecessary modifiers.

Before you start accusing me of racism and having me fitted for one of those smartly tailored brown shirts, hear me out. As a result of the diversity that exists in America, what has developed is an environment of political correctness and a political process handcuffed by the fear of offending anyone’s precious culture. I will not rehash my views on the whole Political Correctness issue, as you can read some of my other posts on the topic. Suffice it to say that it is an entirely bad idea that does nothing but create a victim mentality and tosses personal responsibility in the trashcan. I do not advocate stripping anyone’s culture from them, but I think it would be in the best interest of the country to have its citizenry focus more on the American part and less on the adjective that precedes it. Perhaps I am being naïve, but I would imagine that the less we focus on what makes us different, the more we can get on with being a unified people.

Mick Rant Off.

*Drunk Catholics apparently don’t fill the pews as much as sober ones.

Happy Pi Day!

Today is 3/14, the day math enthusiasts around the word celebrate their favorite number.

For those who don't know, Pi () is the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter.

Pi Day Official Home Page

In case you were wondering, (I'm sure you were not) You can click here to view Pi to a million digits!


Finally, a Pi music video:

I Love Psychiatry

Charity is Alive and Well

Anonymous Philanthropist Donates 200 Human Kidneys To Hospital

Gotta Love The Onion.

Test Results Are In...

Well, the wait is over.

At 09:34 I received an email stating that my score report was available for viewing. After a few moments of breath catching, I clicked on the link and opened my score report.


PASS.

Just under the score there was some very small print. It read:

You are slightly less retarded than we first assumed. Frankly, after seeing that you finished the test in under 5 hours, the boys and I here at headquarters laughed and made jokes about your using a magic 8 ball (trust me, it happens). You passed, you lucky bastard. With CLOSE supervision and a large malpractice policy in place, we will allow you continue your medical education and see real live patients.

Also, in reference to question number 117: IT IS NEVER appropriate to tell patient, and I am quoting here,
"You gonna be aaiiggghht, all bleeding stops eventually".
PLEASE MAKE A NOTE!

Scotch Whisky Makes You Taller!

No, no it doesn't. But one can hope.

In preparation for my winning of the Powerball drawing this upcoming Wednesday, I have splurged and treated myself to a nice bottle of scotch. What follows is a brief review of a scotch I first tried a few years ago but as a result of my premature onset dementia, had forgotten if I liked or not. I keep promising myself to keep a notebook of things I need to remember, but keep forgetting this as well. You know what they say, memory is the second thing to go.*

Anyway, on to the review. This particular bottle is made by The Balvenie distillery in Banfshire, Scotland. It is a 12 year old single malt with the unique characteristic of being aged in 2 different wooden casks. First it matures in a traditional oak whiskey barrel and then is transferred to a Spanish oak cask which previously held Sherry. I picked it up for about $44.00 on sale in the People's Republic of Jersey.

If you have ever read a real review of scotch or wine for that matter, the reviewers employ a language all their own. Since I am neither a professional reviewer, nor do I spit out what I taste, I will spare you those pretentious adjectives. What I will say is that it is good. Okay, really good.

Alright, I suppose I can be slightly more descriptive, but first...gulp...ahh, that's better; I needed to remind myself what I am reviewing. Seriously, this scotch is very very smooth. It is very gentle on the tongue and has surprisingly almost no aftertaste whatsoever, just mild warmth. In professional parlance, I suppose they would say something like not a very long finish- whatever the hell that means. It kind of smells like an obscene mixture of Log Cabin syrup and rubbing alcohol. Not that this is a bad thing, I'm just trying to paint a picture for you. Again, they would mumble something about it having a fruity and lively nose- I don't know about you but using the word "nose" in a review of something I am supposed to drink... well, suffice it to say that it doesn't conjure up wonderful imagery for me. On to taste.

On The Balvenie offical website they describe it as having:

Sweet fruit and oloroso sherry notes, layered with honey and vanilla.

I have no freaking idea what the hell a oloroso is, and don't think I ever will. They are not too far off however, on the honey and vanilla thing. I think it is more of a syrup-y taste, but okay, I'll give you honey. Vanilla is definitely something you can taste, and in my opinion, there is a hint of cinnamon there as well. That is about as descriptive as I can get without hormone replacement therapy.

This is one of the better scotches I have tried and is incredibly smooth and drinkable. Highly recommended.


I give it 8.8 out of 10 livers.


* I forget the first.

Relay for Life

My daughter Meagan's high school is hosting a Relay for Life event for the American Cancer society. This will take place on May 30th to the 31st. It is a 17 hour relay event that She has organized a group of students to form a team, and I am proud that she is the team captain.

She asked me to post a link here and ask that some of my very generous readers make a donation to the American Cancer Society through her team's page. There is no minimum amount to donate you can write in any amount you like; every little bit helps.

American Cancer Society Relay for Life

A Brand New Blog

Fellow paramedic, bibliophile, and lover of Latin, Timmy has joined the ranks with his own blog. His slightly skewed view on the world should be entertaining at the very least.
Be sure to check it out:

Rogue Medic

Walking in Circles

Well, nothing much to report on the test results front; Tuesday will be 3 weeks and hopefully I will know something soon. This is by far the toughest part of the process.

In other news, I heard from an old friend that I lost touch with after almost 12 years. Lou was a paramedic and critical care nurse that I worked with many years ago. We worked together for a couple of years and enjoyed many of the same hobbies: skydiving, gunslinging, and the fine art of transmission performance testing. Lou went and joined the USAF and we lost touch. Luckily he found some old pictures from the glory days and did a Google search that led him here. We spoke on the phone the other night for a few hours catching up- a lot has changed in all those years. What is interesting however is that even after all those years it felt like we had just spoken last week. It was great to hear from him again and hopefully we will get together before too many more years pass.

Earlier this week we decided to take advantage of the milder weather and go for a daily walk along Kelly Drive. We go along the path right next to the river and follow it down to the Philadelphia Art Museum. Round trip it is about 5 miles and it takes us about an hour and a half. Rileigh seems to like the stroller ride and looking at the geese, dogs and people. (in that order). As for me, it is the first hint of exercise that my ass has seen since we got back in December, since they tell me that channel surfing (even at extreme speeds) doesn't count.

Here is a picture of the route that I borrowed from the web since I have consistently forgotten to take a camera.