Showing posts with label Big Butt Syndrome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Big Butt Syndrome. Show all posts

Monday, March 31, 2008

taking it like a man

Oh my! I just read some harsh words about Herself. It certainly deserves a “yeah, right” when I write that I often wondered why Herself has never played up or talked about Herself’s role on the Nixon Congressional investigation team. Maybe this is why:

“Because she was a liar,” Zeifman [Herself’s supervisor on the project] said in an interview last week. “She was an unethical, dishonest lawyer. She conspired to violate the Constitution, the rules of the House, the rules of the committee and the rules of confidentiality.”

Oh my! Those are harsh words indeed! The article is interesting reading about how she removed documents from a publicly accessible area and then wrote a legal brief as if the contents of those documents did not exist. Sounds vaguely familiar to what one of her henchman did when he placed documents from the National Archives in his socks in an attempt to steal them.

Is there a there, there? The article again: The [legal] brief [written by herself] was so fraudulent and ridiculous, Zeifman believes Hillary would have been disbarred if she had submitted it to a judge.

Oh my! I am certain these are not good times for Herself. A liar? Unethical? Oh my!

D’jver just want to break out in song?

Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.


We used to sing that in grade school in the 1960s. Bet they don’t anymore. Where’s the ACLU when you need them most?

I just entered another blogger’s contest. I couldn’t focus on what she wanted, so I randomized my answer. she wrote me! seems pretty cool. she has an iPhone. must be in debt up to her earlobes.

I’m going through my links. Amazing what you find in there, eh? I think these were shorts that amused me some time ago. Seems my link was from a subpage in 2004. Here’s the home page. I just went through 11 pages before my twin popped on line. Didn’t find anything too good. Forget I mentioned it.

When’d I get compromised? Friday? My how time flies when you are trying to rid yourself of being holed by a five-foot camera. Well, I just wanted to share that I seem to be in a repacking mode still. Seems that Fleets stuff emptied the warehouse. Closing off the fourth day without a, a movement thingey. I’ll keep you posted. Yeah, you’re welcome.

I just remembered why I am cranky. In October – maybe even September – I wrote Cyndi Lauper with the full SASE and all that jazz. I nicely asked for a signed pic for my daughter for Christmas. That guy from Dirty Jobs came through. Hell, Drew Carey sent four! Did Cyndi? No. WTF, girl? The link is her address. Somebody harass her. I don’t want to in case she’s just busy and is going to send the pic, and didn’t because I harassed her. I’m smart like that.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

quick note

OK. Compromise done. Clean. “See your butt in five years,” the doc says. “Yeah. Looking forward to it,” I reply. I thoroughly plan on having a virtual butt reaming next time. Seems reasonable to presume the tech will be better by then. And that’s my story for the next five years until proven otherwise. I am so done with this topic.

So this kid gets into an ATV accident or something. Went isoelectric. Also no cranial blood flow. The boy’s toast. Declared dead. As was he listening as they said it. Forced himself to twitch. Dang.

Good thing I read that article before my emasculation. My twin had very specific orders about what to do and how long to wait – and all the papers needed to back it up – before I went under. I don’t mind dying, but I want to be dead before they start to harvest organs. Seems like a reasonable request.

Baseball season is here: The start of the road to the World Series in October. I wonder what life will be like when that time comes. Seems so out of reach.

Mind wandering. Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose – Janis (via Kris).

Thursday, January 24, 2008

site meter follies followed by ramblings

Answer: In this order, ABC News, the FBI, an NPR piece, Wikipedia, Jihad Watch, the Saudi Embassy, me.

Question: What is google’s top seven for “wanted terrorist from yemen”? Returned with july 2005 archive.

Yeah, that’s me, terrorist-hunting superhero. Even more fun, following me is Fox News, CNN, and the NYT. I also come in 20th! I wonder if I could sell my page rankings … CNN can use all the help it can get.

The internet is such a dangerous place to get information.

Seems our sitemeter follies a couple two tree posts below missed one cc: on Poindexter’s e: Talisman Energy, Calgary. Dat boy dun shard are storey un stoopud tings! If’n I had a momma I’d bea telling ‘er! Dang!

Answer: In this order, Food Timeline, What’s Cooking America, Motts, me.

Question: What is Google’s top four for the history of applesauce? Return with stupid clowns with a side of applesauce.

I am the authority on the history of applesauce immediately following Motts? You guys are in trouble!

Answer: I didn’t want to sound offensive, so I googled insensitive penis.

Question: What do I do with this limp dick with which I live?

Good advice inspired by one of my hero’s in this life.


Answer: That right there is my e.a.merkel double barrel rabbit ear shotgun.

Question: What the fuck is a rabbit ear shotgun?

This sounds dangerous, and I think the person who googled such a thing is probably way too into weaponry.

Answer: It removes the need to discuss jock itch sweat and detergents.

Question: What are bunched panties?

I understand googling “jock itch and detergent.” The little buddies can be sensitive sometimes, particularly in the summer months. The addition of “sweat” throws me. I fail to see the nexus to detergent. Sweat is a function of aeration, heat, and exertion. The detergent I use doesn’t make me sweat. I might get hives. I can see that. Sweat? Um, no.

I’m working on a theory here. If I ridicule enough people that visit my site, maybe I can achieve singularity. That point of infinite density the other side of which is completely unknown to science. Is it a worm hole to another part of me? Do I burst forward into something later catalogued as Big Bang Clyde, and through this dispersion of my matter form little galaxies that float around me like a herd of mosquitoes? Am I expanding or contracting? If you look at me with a really powerful telescope, will you see me when I was younger?

What will be my last thought as I lay dying? I suspect something about what I was going to do next like the laundry, or something I wanted to do like rinse my dinner plate. I think the profound thoughts will come in the hours before, provided I am not so cranked up on morphine that I am just watching the walls melt. Will I be alone? I think I will have a dog, so I better use big bowls in case I am not found for a few days.

My Great Aunt Nana was afraid of hospitals and she died in one. That always bothered me. My second cousin Craig lived a year after his fatal diagnosis and no one told me. That continues to piss me off.

My father told my brother and me that if his “dick sill worked” he “would have divorced your mother a long time ago.” I was saddened that he didn’t live until Viagra came on the market or that the whole poker tournament thing came after his death. He was an excellent card player. The last time I saw him alive was at a card game we both played in. I remember finally figuring out his game that night. I guess it was time.

I am getting ready to enter the next phase of my life. I think it will be my last. Will it last 30 years or more?

I just got T.Rex’s Dandy in the Underworld. Marc Bolan and the band were on tour when it came out on March 11, 1977. Six months later he was dead at age 30. I don’t understand why people die so young. He had an exceptionally good time while he was here, but don’t we all?

My skin gets dry in the winter. I started to use this soap I put on a scrungee thing. Seems to be helping. But I reach around to itch my lower back, and I feel hair there. Makes me wonder if I have hair on my ass. I am afraid to look. I am not going to itch there except through clothes to ensure that I gather no information. It is just something I don’t want to know.

Does everyone write poetry at some time in their life?

I lot of us have some perpetual fuck-up we know that makes our life look not so bad. Do those perpetual fuck-ups have someone they know even more fucked up? Is there no bottom to the pit?

I love old pennies. Wouldn’t it be cool to know precisely every story associated with a particular coin from its first use to the present? I pick up every penny I find. I save them. Remind me of my twin.

Time to transit …

Friday, October 26, 2007

the doctor is in

We start this session in the office with a little pissed off attitude. “Why?” you ask. “Let me tell you,” I respond.

I get these case studies and I have real patients with real problems (dicks falling off, aliens in butts (that one is coming soon), etc.), albeit all in my virtual medical practice. I get it – I’m not a “real” doctor, I just play one on the internet. But still, that guy’s dick was going to fall off, that cold butt would be numb by now if I didn’t prescribe a hot shower and a good spanking.

Well, I open this file, jot out my diagnosis, give the guy a script for weed and speed, go to the drug store to fill it, come home, and get toasted and hyped. As while I am scratching the fricking thousands of gnats off of the wallpaper, and also gathering the carcasses to top my brownies that are baking (protein supplement), I decided on a lark to check the “real” answer written by “real” docs – as if they actually know what the hell they are talking about. What I did find? You won’t believe it! I am so pissed! They added more data! A-holes.

I have watched precisely one Hercule Periot episode. One. I am an old Columbo fan. Have seen about every one a dozen times. My hero. So I was curious about this Periot guy. I never liked men that act as he does. Character or not, he makes me want to act out. So the show goes on – the crime, the investigation, the big finale – and what happens? As he is explaining how he “solved” the murder, he added data! He added data! You don’t add information when you give your solution. It’s like a rule. That was 15 or 20 years ago. I am still pissed about it. I can be real anal about some things.

So when I felt like reading the junior varsity’s diagnosis of this guy and saw that they added data I almost quit practicing medicine again. But I have a responsibility to my patients, and I took the Hippopotamus Oath sometime or another, so here I am.

Let’s look at some pics. Here’s the one they shows us in the background.


The guy (presumably, could be a chick), has a problem immediately apparent. See it? The dude’s must be shaped like a grotesque pear! Very thin on top. Can see right through him. Then with his heart in the middle, you can see his butt pushing right up to it! See his cheeks? That’s really gross. Heart looks kinda big, too. Is having a big heart a bad thing? They always say it’s ok, but this one may be swollen because it’s chaffed or something from rubbing up against his butt cheeks.

Note: “Relocate butt.”

His bones look kinda thin, too. Note: “Prescribe calcium supplement.”

And now, the pic they were hiding from us (I won’t treat you, my team of residents, in the same despicable manner as Dr. Periot treated me).


Ut oh! Another misfile? Looks like Joe Camel all dolled up to make himself feel pretty got his booty caught on a night-surveillance camera. Thought no one would be looking, eh, Josephine? You know, pal, there is one rule in this world: When you want to look pretty, and you’ve got a pump-action yogurt chucker sitting atop a mud flap all stuck inside your tummy-tucker pantyhose, you stay inside with the doors locked and windows blocked. It’s like a rule. OK?

I can’t believe it’s another misfile. Let’s look closer. Yep, misfile. Joe Camel. Let’s go to the patient …

BACKGROUND. A 27-year-old man presents to the emergency department with a 3-day history of worsening epigastric pain and nonbilious vomiting (Oh, this sounds bad. I better put on one of this ear things with the cold silver front that the “real” docs lick and then put on a woman’s breast. Note: “Put morgue on alert – incoming.”). His bowel movements were normal until the day of presentation (“until”), when they turned black and sticky (I’m gonna puke.). He denies having any hematemesis (so would I. What kind of pervert to do think I am? Hema-what? WTF is that?), fever, chills, or any other associated symptoms, as well as any history of prior surgeries or medical problems. He has taken no medications recently except for Pepto-Bismol, which made the pain worse (did you check the expiration date? That stuff tastes like shit on a good day; can you imagine after the half-life has expired?). He does not smoke tobacco but consumes 4 beers each day (that’s almost 1,500 beers a year! What was that word up there … oh yeah, “epigastric.” Means, “beer coming out the wazoo”). He denies any illicit drug use (why? He’s thoroughly liquid. This boy spends almost a $1,000 a year on beer! No wonder his ass is so big).

On physical examination, his oral temperature (oh, c’mon, have some balls – stick it up his ass. Oh yeah, you’d have to work your arm up to the elbow just to find the entry point. Oh, dry heaves coming!)is 98.6°F (37.0°C). His pulse has a regular rhythm with a rate of 88 bpm. His blood pressure is 198/88 mm Hg. He is noted to be in mild distress secondary to his epigastric discomfort (hurts having all that beer coming out your wazoo, doesn’t it?). The examination of his head and neck, including a check for icteric sclerae (is that like code for head lice?), is normal. His lungs are clear to auscultation with normal respiratory effort (sure, and remember the homeless guy that they crammed something down his throat to make him gag? Not this guy – he’s got insurance!). A 1/6 soft systolic ejection murmur is detected (“Systolic.” I;ve heard that word before. It’s a medical term of some kind.). His S1 and S2 heart sounds are normal. His abdomen is soft (“fat”) but tender to deep palpation in the epigastric region (the “wazoo” region). The rectal exam (oh no! Going in! Better tie a rope around your waist. Gas mask!) reveals normal tone and black, guaiac-negative stool (I really do not like the sound of “gualac-negative.” It’s like, “we did a scrotum check, and it came back ‘testicular-negative.’ We’re sorry, sir, you have no balls.”). The peripheral arterial pulses in the lower extremities are palpable but diminished when compared to the pulses in the upper extremities (that’s normal, ain’t it? Nearer thy god to thee?).

The laboratory analysis, including a complete blood count and a basic metabolic panel, is normal; however, his serum amylase and lipase levels are elevated, at 240 U/L (normal range, 30-110 U/L) and 2118 U/L (normal range, 46-218 U/L), respectively (Hey, Joe, you got the extension for the morgue? 221? Thanks.). The patient is diagnosed with alcohol-induced pancreatitis (surprise, surprise) and treated in the ED with bowel rest, intravenous fluids, antiemetics, and generous doses of intravenous opiate analgesics (gotta love ERs. Here’s some opium, a generous amount. Who’s leg you gotta hump to get this script?). The patient is to be admitted to the hospital for continued bowel rest and intravenous fluid therapy for complete resolution of his pancreatitis; however, despite having his pain eased, the patient is noted to have a persistently elevated systolic blood pressure in the 190-199 range (she’s gonna blow!) and a diastolic blood pressure in the 90-109 range. When further queried for his past medical history (because we think you lied the first time) and a thorough review of systems, the patient does not recall ever having had his blood pressure checked, although he does report that he frequently experiences cramping in his legs (sure you don’t smoke?) and sometimes feels as if his feet are “cold.” (Got socks?)

A posteroanterior chest radiograph is obtained (Image 1). (Hollow guy, big butt.)

What is the most likely cause of this patient’s hypertension, and what further testing should be performed? (Beer. Put him a treadmill until he drops like a stone, then call the morgue. Should take no more than 7 minutes.)

HINT. The next step should be to check the blood pressure in the lower extremities.

ANSWER. Aortic coarctation: The patient’s hypertension and murmur are likely caused by a previously undiagnosed coarctation of the aorta (Beer-induced heart malfunction. Would have been better off smoking. At least his butt would be a normal size.). The chest radiograph demonstrates an enlarged collateral intercostal arterial circulation that has caused notching of the inferior-posterior rib margins, which is supportive of the diagnosis (JV clowns. The “notching” is because his ass has rubbed his heart. The resulting chaffing has enlarged the cardiac organ to such a degree that it is now affecting his ribs.). Magnetic resonance angiography (MRA) confirms the presence of a postductal aortic coarctation (Image 2). (Joe Camel in a dress.)

(You can read more … I’m done.)

Coarctation of the aorta is a congenital condition that results in narrowing of a segment of the aorta. It was first described by Giovanni Morgagni in 1760. Historically, coarctation of the aorta was classified as preductal (before the origin of the ductus arteriosus) or juxtaductal (distal to the origin of the ductus arteriosus). More recently, the latter designation has been abandoned for the term postductal. The postductal form is the most common type of coarctation of the aorta. Coarctation of the aorta constitutes approximately 6-8% of all congenital heart diseases in infants. It is most frequently associated with other forms of congenital heart disease, such as ventricular septal defects, patent ductus arteriosus, bicuspid aortic valves, and aortic stenoses; however, it may also appear as an isolated condition. It is more common in males than in females; in patients with ovarian agenesis (Turner syndrome), it is particularly common.

Patients diagnosed with coarctation of the aorta in infancy usually have a combination of other heart anomalies that can lead to overt congestive heart failure. Those patients presenting beyond infancy, such as in this case, often have vague symptoms that may include headaches, a propensity to nose bleeds, leg cramps, and cold feet. Hypertension is usually present and leads to further in-depth testing. The hallmark physical sign of postductal coarctation is that blood pressure in the arms is at least 20 mm Hg higher than it is in the lower extremities (normally blood pressure in the lower extremities is slightly higher than in the upper extremities). A systolic or continuous murmur in the infrascapular or infraclavicular area also may suggest the presence of this anomaly. Additional murmurs may indicate the presence of associated anomalies, such as ventricular septal defects, patent ductus arteriosus, or aortic stenoses.

Chest radiography may demonstrate cardiomegaly and rib notching from the compensatory collateral intercostal arterial dilatation. The classic “figure 3” sign seen on chest radiographs occurs in at least one third of patients, and results from prestenotic dilatation of the ascending aorta followed by indentation of the aorta at the coarctation site and poststenotic dilatation of the descending aorta. The “reverse 3” or “E” sign can also be observed on barium swallow studies, resulting from matched compression of the esophagus by the dilated segments of the aorta. Signs of left ventricular hypertrophy are also often seen on electrocardiograms (ECGs). An echocardiogram is usually performed to detect any associated cardiac anomalies. MRA and cardiac catheterization may be necessary to confirm the exact location and the presence of collaterals. A gradient of more than 20% across the stenosis during cardiac catheterization indicates a severe coarctation and requires urgent intervention.

Treatment of aortic coarctation is usually surgical. Antihypertensive medication must be used with caution, as its use may lead to inadequate perfusion of the lower body and renal impairment. The best treatment strategy is admission for early repair. If left untreated, 90% of patients with aortic coarctation die by the age of 50 years, usually from hypertensive complications. Historically, surgical resection of the involved aortic segment has been the treatment of choice, and it has a high success rate. More recently, balloon dilatation and placement of endovascular stents are gaining popularity and becoming accepted forms of primary therapy, especially for patients who may be unsuitable candidates for surgery. Postoperative complications may be acute or delayed and include persistent hypertension, recoarctation, and aortic aneurysms, among others.

This patient had an echocardiogram that failed to reveal any associated cardiac defects. He was referred for surgical intervention and underwent successful resection of the coarcted aortic segment after resolution of his associated pancreatitis, the initial reason for his presentation and admission.