I left work last night around ten o’clock, because I felt like I was about to turn into a diarrhea cannon. There’s some kind of stomach bug rampaging through that place, and I somehow picked it up.
I prefer not to think about the way it happened… because I suspect it had something to do with airborne poop spores. Ya know?
A woman who works in my department was out for three days in a row with the thing, and told a co-worker on the phone yesterday that her ass had turned “inside-out.” This, of course, made me laugh, but in a nervous way.
I came home last night, had a seat in the small room, and went straight to bed. Toney, thinking I needed my sleep, turned off the alarm, and I ended up clear-cutting timber for a full ten hours. It’s unheard of.
But I feel better today. Not 100%, but better. My gut seems like it’s bubbling and fizzing, but there are no signs of an impending liqui-sprint, which is a big improvement.
Hopefully I just got a small dose of the spores, and it won’t progress to the “inside-out” stage. ‘Cause I can’t have that.
I took the older Secret to the orthodontist this afternoon. His appointment was at one o’clock, and I went to the school about a half-hour beforehand, to fetch him.
“Sign him out!” the intimidating woman in the office ordered, while pointing toward a clipboard lying on a nearby desk. Shit, man… why the hostility? I picked it up, and scanned the previous entries, by the parents who had come before.
Orthodontist, dentist, doctor, sick… The reasons were predictable. I was tempted to shake things up, and enter something a little more interesting. Like assplosions, lungful of poop spores, or simply “puberty.”
But, you know, I was a little afraid of the woman behind the counter. She didn’t seem like the type who approves of fun.
The dentist office was complete pandemonium. Nearly every chair in the sizable waiting room had a person in it. It was an equal mix of dull-faced parents, and their middle school-aged kids.
I signed him in (out in one place, in at another), and shoehorned my heft between Merlin Olsen and a sixth grade girl. As soon as I sat down the girl edged a little closer to her mother, which is always flattering.
I looked around at the crowd, and saw a teen girl at ten o’clock, sporting the wrinkled-forehead “I am totally disgusted by everything” expression required from females of a certain vintage. At eleven o’clock was a boy who should’ve started visiting an orthodontist years earlier. Radical bucking.
In the corner were three off-brand video games, with customized characters painted on the side — all sporting braces on their teeth. Here’s a bad cell phone picture. The Pac-Man with a big Hilary Swank overbite is, in my opinion, mildly disturbing.
As I sat and waited for this tooth-straightening factory to get finished with our boy, I started noticing something very subtle, but definitely present. And here’s a text message I sent Toney at 1:19 this afternoon:
This doctors office is a madhouse. I’m wedged btwn two people, and there’s a faint smell of poop.
Dammit! You can’t escape it, you can’t avoid the shit mist. I tried to breathe through my hand, to possibly filter-out the particles, but I don’t know how successful I was. I also attempted to inhale through my nose holes only, thinking the hairs and whatnot might help.
A man on crutches, and missing the bottom third of his left leg, came in with a boy and sat down in the waiting room. He knew one of the other parents there, and told her, as if it’s no big deal, that he’s going to have another six inches taken off his leg in the morning.
“They’re going to remove the knee this time…” he said. “So, what’s going on with you?” He said it like I might tell someone I’m planning to take in the Camry for an oil change. Yowza!
As we were leaving (finally) I saw a guy standing in the doorway of an independent record store, a couple doors down. He looked bored, and a little concerned.
Hey, I tried to support them, I really did. But they cranked-up their prices to the point of outrageousness, and the cashiers are always snotty and insulting. So, fuck ’em. You’ve gotta meet me halfway, bitches.
I asked the Secret if he wanted to get something to eat, since I’d had nothing all day. “Can we go to Moe’s?” he asked. And I was hoping he’d say that…
I used to get the Homewrecker burrito, without guacamole. But I soon realized I was making a tactical error. The Triple Lindy is exactly the same as the Homewrecker — except it doesn’t come with guac. And it’s fifty cents cheaper.
You think they’d tell you, but they don’t. Oh, and I didn’t hear them holler “Welcome to Moe’s!” a single time while we were there. I think they’ve already scrapped it, and that’s a good thing.
So, there ya go. This is a late update explaining why the update is so late. Pretty slick, huh?
I’ll leave you now with two questionable Questions to chew on. The first is from the Stealing Clive Bull‘s Topics desk. A few nights ago he asked folks to call-in and tell him what’s banned in their home. What’s caused you to say, “That’s not welcome in this house!”
Anything? Nothing comes to my mind. Oh, we’ve banned the kids from seeing certain movies, because we thought they were too young, and have never let them watch brain-eating crapola like professional wrestling. But we’re not big on high-horse proclamations, really.
Clive’s callers were mentioning certain newspapers and magazines, TV shows that offended them, etc. Do you have anything on this? I don’t have a very good feeling about it…
And finally, I’m getting sick of calling our kids “secrets.” I mean, seriously. That shit’s played-out. But, at the same time, I don’t want to use their real names on the website.
So, if you could help me give them internet names, I’d be much obliged. Maybe sitcom brothers, or something along those lines? Like Wally and the Beaver, but not so obvious?
Of course, it doesn’t have to be from TV. It can be from movies, or books, or music even. Anything really, I just need to give our younglings their very own internet names. Help me out, won’t you?
And that’ll close out the week, boys and girls.
I’ll see you on Monday!
Friend of my had a boy who he simply referred to as “the savage”.
Pete and Pete.
it’s “lead wick” ain’t it?
We call our secrets “Bofus”
because when things “happen” neither will admit guilt so we assume it was both of them… or bofus.
I’m curious why Misselle’s kids can’t open their own car doors?
Ben and Jerry
Bob and Tommy. (Only you hipsters will understand.)
Walker and TR is pretty awesome
How about Tupac and Biggie?
Name ’em whoever their favorite Beatle is
Shake and Bake
Spawn9 and Spawn(?)
–fill in age. I sometimes forget how old your boys are.
Being stricken with a case of the squirts did it occur to you that those vapors may have been fermenting within your own crotchal area? Just saying.
@ Drug Delivery Guy – I’m with Angie, definitely let them pick out their names. Wouldn’t even have to tell them about the website. Just ask them what they would like to be called if they could change their name to something humorous. Since they seem to be something of chips off the old block, I’m sure they would come up with something entetaining.
Right on.
And please, Jeff, stop with all the rectal updates.
Banned from the house: nothing. Why would you ban something that someone else likes? I mean, unless it kills you, it makes you stronger.
And to all you right-wingers who are WVSR fans: you are missing the point.
Banned:
Any kind of hunted meat smaller than deer.
Banned: anyone my dog doesn’t like. She’s a better judge of character than I am. And, living creatures without legs, arms, fins or wings – snakes, worms, slugs, etc. I’m also not sure I could handle letting people with freakish disfigurements in the house, but that hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll keep you posted.
For the Secrets, I like Shake and Bake. Good2go, I’m not sure why, but that made me chuckle. (and I’m not much of a chuckler)
I missed work this past Tuesday due to the airborne poo spores that you speak of. That said, I’d rather be at home sprinting back and forth from the couch to the toilet with a raw butthole than go to work, so if anyone has any extra spores they want to blow my way, I’ll be heavy open-mouth breathing and crossing my fingers all weekend.
Horshack and Epstein
The only thing the roomies are not allowed to bring into the homestead is any form of law enfocement, not that we are criminals,, I just dont trust ’em. As far as new names I vote for Sarvis and Hayduke, that way you can work in “HAYDUKE LIVES!” jokes
I can’t believe I forgot about this… try the Ron Mexico Name Generator at http://ronmexico.kainalopallo.com/ – it gives you a semi-random first name with a last name which is the name of a country. For example, if I type in “Jeff Kay” and check the “male” box, it comes back with “Your Ron Mexico name, the ultimate disguise, is Victor Australia.”
And I have to agree with Charles in PA – the banning of wheat beer would make me sad. Conversely, the banning of mass-market lagers (Bud et al) would go unnoticed.
Jeff, I would be flattered if you called them both Josh.
you said…
…”fetch…” words words, comma some words.
“…fetch me a …!”
older, thumbed (pre-hinsle) children are cool, even dogs can open refrigerators. yeah kids!
tony masella and angela
Super late as usual, but one apt idea would have to be
Lennon and McCartney
(or Ringo for the drumming Secret)
When I was growing up, my Mom banned the word “fart” (as far as she’s concerned, that’s right up there with the other “F” word) and my Dad very firmly banned Green Apple Now and Later’s and Green Apple Jolly Ranchers because they made him sick to smell.
The only thing banned from our house is Ramen Noodles. We had to live on them for three months straight in college once, and we have never been able to eat them again. It’s been 20 years, and I can’t even stand to smell them cooking.
James Westfall and Dr. Kenneth Noisewater
Banned from my home.. all things Martha Stewart
banned: Fundies, French’s Mustard
Secrets: Definitely Arnold and Willis.
Ben & Jerry
Tom & Jerry
Gumby and Pokey
Fred & Barney
Speedo and Guitar Hero – or together, The Secrets
I forgot one other banned item:
ANY milk less than whole. Bringing skim milk to the door will cause me to rethink my “no gunplay” rule.
And I like Itchy & Scratchy, wish I had thought of it first.
Latre,
Alright, I’m going to pander a little.
How about Leo and Red? Or Mickey and Roger? Pete and Johnny?
Banned from my house:
People hovering around my office bathroom while I’m “at stool”
People carrying photo albums
People who act like their four-year-old is smarter than the rest of us
Anyone who doesn’t live at the house, before 10am
Clowns
nothing I can think of band ln this house. now I know I am dating myself but here goes, how about heckle and jeckle one of the best toons of my earlyness
I’m liking the new look, Jeff.
The WVSR’s web page is looking different.
LOVE the new sidebar!
The new sidebar kicks serious ASS Jeff,, good work!
chill and Charles in PA-
I like all kinds of beer, everything from Guiness to mexican lagers, but wheat beer is murky, gives me a raging headachce after 2 pints, and I don’t even like the taste. Maybe I’m allergic or something.
You guys are welcome to my share.
The last time any showed up at my place (Rickard’s White), I literally had to give it away, and I don’t waste beer.
I even use the de-alcoholized stuff to cook with, so I don’t waste any real beer. Also, it’s a lot cheaper, here in Ontario.
Beer can chicken, now there’s an idea …
Thumbs up from me on the new sidebar.
Ying & Yang
Huey & Dewey
Tarzan & Cheetah
Sweet & Low
Pickin & Grinnin
Ben & Gay
Pete & Repeat
Pee & Wee
Late to the party … but I sugggest Mischief & Mayhem for names.
Norbert & Dagbert (The Angry Beavers – a fantastic but short-lived Nickelodeon cartoon)
Banned from my house….
The former neighbor boy – he’s not 12, he’s 8 years from being tried as an adult
Liberals
Anything from Mexico (the company I work for is closing our plant and moving it to Juarez. smart move, if you’re a drug lord)
Sorry – it’s Norbert and Daggett
Jeff in Niagara – not that you’ll see this a month later, but I’m so with you on wheat beer. I love beer (not Bud or Miller or anything like that), but real beer with flavor, but wheat beers are just awful to my taste buds. I can’t say if it gives me a headache because I haven’t drunk enough to find out. People here in Michigan love Bell’s Oberon and go bonkers when it’s available (I think it’s seasonal), but I just don’t get it.
Banned in my house: smoking, but it’s not really an issue because I live alone and rarely have people over.
Poky and Gumby?