Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Bitch is back, and a bucket of tragedy ain't gonna stop me

I seem unable to escape tragedy today, which wants me so bad it literally throws itself in front of me. First there was the Barbara Cartland Fiasco. I went down the hill to the village and rented a film and put a $20 bill on the counter and told them that the Queen would take care of things for me (since it is a picture of the Queen on the Canadian $20 bill). “Or perhaps it is Barbara Cartland, I can never tell the difference between the two, so perhaps Barbara Cartland will solve my problems.”
And the guy, who owns the store and again, seem maybe, I dunno 40, and I assumed was sort of worldly wise goes, “Wha?”

“Barbara Cartland?” I said.

“Is that someone I should know?”

Me, “It’s Barbara Cartland? She wears pink, she has a hairdo like the queen and carries a small white dog with her (like the Queen!)!”
“And what is she exactly?”

Me: “Well, she has probably written and sold more books than most Canadian authors put together (Hey, I didn’t create her, I’m just telling it like it is).”

Him: “Do you read her?”

Me: “No!”

Him: “Well how would you know about her?”

Me: “It’s BARBARA CARTLAND! I haven’t read a lot of Stephen King but I’ve HEARD he exists!”

Him: “Oh….”

See, what is the point of continuing at this point? The joke which was about the passing look of Barbara Cartland and that of the Queen is now gone, though I went on to explain that Barbara is so OTT that she could either be the Queen of the UK OR a drag queen, one is never too sure. She is a girl who is Barbie gone bad, I mean, if there is a question “Can you surround yourself with too much pink?” The answer is: Barbara Cartland?

Of course I pointed out that it is actually Dame Barbara Cartland because in the UK, if you write a shitload of romances over a period of time you get a title; or if you write pop songs, you get knighted like Sir Elton John. I like that about the UK, you can completely sell out for long periods of time and become nobility for it. While here in Canada you have to do something serious and noble before you get The Order of Canada, while if Canada was like the UK, the Bare Naked Ladies (the band who wrote “If I had a million dollars”) would be Sir Bare Naked Ladies.

I decided, since I was very late that I was going to wheel up the hill in a single go with a 1-2-3-4 beat. The first section which is very steep was 50 strokes and about stroke 40 I decided that EVERY able bodied person should be forced to go up a hill in wheelchair, maybe before they graduate school, just because. Hills are a BITCH. So I am wheeling the second section, forcing myself to keep on pace and breathing heavy while this sort of caricature female from the 1970: a woman in mid 50’s who is walking in tiny steps in her high heel PINK mules across the street. She is wearing some sort of polyester and her middle looks like a beach ball and she turns as I wheeze up to the light and says, making a pushing down motion, “Good exercise huh!” And then totters off on her PINK mules while I sit there and wonder why people say asshole things around wheelies, is it because they think they are being friendly? I mean, if there was someone running, I would take the “good exercise” comment because they are actually exercising but from this woman who was probably taking her bonbons back for her daily soaps, I was mentally think, “Yeah, I’m in a freaking wheelchair because I got tired of the Pilates; and the Nordic Trek didn’t do it for me so now I drag my entire body weight up hills one 8 inch push at a time because it’s GOOD EXERCISE.”

Dunno, maybe there are just people who will always say something stupid, they were probably in line on the Titanic for lifeboats and asking, “Will this be over in time for the midnight buffet?” Just couldn’t get the Pink Mules out of my mind, at least until I got home. That because there was an email from my parentals from their vacation to let me know (with no real explanation or context) they had realized that ‘all of us are flawed and at times deceitful, dishonest and hurtful’. I guess this is the Xmas letter. I find words like “deceitful” and “dishonest” to be rather strong and am not sure why someone would send me a letter from vacation telling me they understand everyone is deceitful. I mean, they are telling ME, so it is hard not to take the “all of us” somewhat personally. Because those really aren’t the three words I would use to describe myself (and since they put (even us) in parenthesis so I would know they were talking about someone else). Actually, do I really want my parents describing themselves as ‘deceitful’ or ‘dishonest’ – not really. Most children actually like to believe their parents are good people doing they best they can; so I hope they keep any additional murders or bank robberies they may have committed to themselves.

There is, as usual, nothing asking about how I am doing (children who go around doing attention seeking behavior like…going out in PUBLIC in a wheelchair will NOT be rewarded), but a statement that after I talked to them last week, they now realize they misread some of my non-verbal communication and that is why they bailed (or are still bailed). I dunno, I am trying to figure out how you classify; “Beth is sick” or “Beth is sleeping” from Linda as non-verbal communication of “Stay away from me for months and months.”

Anyway, after that I got an email letting me know that the part time job I applied for as an Equity officer in the Equity and Human rights office was turned down: “The selection committee has carefully considered applications from all the candidates and has decided upon someone to fill the position. While we were impressed and intrigued with your application…..”

I was puzzled because it doesn’t sound like there was a shortlist just WHAMMO, you’ll do. And they were “intrigued” with my application? Well then hire me and find out more. I don’t spread the legs till you pay out, get what I mean. Damn. Oh well, back to job hunting. Mostly now I want a job so that I can then go on disability. I think the irony in Canada is sort of funny; easier to go on disability when employed than not.

Oh yeah, the next part might be a bit ICK, so I warned you. I woke up with another nosebleed and then after finding out I was “intriguing” but unemployed I went to the bathroom to take a dump (which since I don’t have normal functioning intestines is a bit more complicated). But I did the deed and wipe and I look at the toilet paper and double take because instead of shit, which is, after many years of taking dumps, what I expected, the toilet paper is COMPLETELY covered with dried and congealed blood. I think, “This is not good!” Because of the volume, and I wipe again and yup, no shit, I have somehow taken at least a partial dump of congealed blood. So I clean up and think. And no matter how I figure it, telling Linda or a doctor is going to end up in some sort of probe up my ass. And while the fact that I am taking some dumps of shit and some of clumped congealed blood is disturbing, probe up the ass wins out as more disturbing. So I will do the tired and true method of “do nothing, say nothing” until I see how frequent and the volume we are talking about. But still, not a good sign. I mean why can’t I be called deceitful and dishonest by my parents, shit blood but GET the job? But I guess it doesn’t go that way. Damn.

But there is a good side to this all: The BITCH is back. Meaning, that in life, in writing, I am going to work harder (however that might possible). And yes, I am going to come back and talk about death and dying, and instead of abstractly talking about my fears, I am going to walk you through what I can remember, and figure out a way to connect with you so that YOU are afraid; so that you are puking in your trash can because I am going to bring you in so close that you understand what 24/7 of being me means.

But that is just the physical, the meat stick, the pain, the saliva dripping onto the floor, the fire as it bursts up from my chest, along my neck as I feel the spasms, the pounding, the ripping of the pain while my membranes quiver and spasm from it, and I wait for the blood to pour out while praying to go insane because there is a beast inside, a burning beast of fire, and it is tearing up my brain, my chest, my neck, even the sinus cavity DESIRES to explode. That is just meat. Boring. Yeah, I lived it, and by my average I will probably live it again in a day or two. SO FUCKING WHAT? As they say about money, there is no point hoarding it all, or if you are going to lose it might as well enjoy it. And I had a very big brain, which has been shaved down a bit but, so what? I mean, yes, it means some days I cannot chose my own clothes or go outside alone and but it also means that like the nasty old cat they keep dumping in the river, I come BACK. Or rather, I don’t have a plan for surviving the summer but I expect I will. And I will enjoy myself, I will smile and laugh and swear and when I have a good day, I will wheel out to rip out the bellies of any bullies or hypocrites I can find. And keep apply for jobs, probably just so I can get on the shortlist and they can say at the end, “Is there anything else you want to tell us.” And I can say, “I shit blood, is that going to be a problem?” Yeah, can’t wait to see how they manage to refer that to Human Resources! I am the exorcist girl – get used it!

I am going to San Francisco in the fall. Simply because I want to. Yeah, I got a lot of things to sell between now and then but when it comes to full on, “Just try and stop me” I am pretty damn a force of nature (who has seizures during the force of nature).

Oh, yeah, it appears my secondary autonomic system, my backup, the one I use at night when asleep, is starting to fail. It is showing the same errors that I plotted in my waking system just over a year ago. And if THAT continues, well, once I get to lack of oxygen conversion when asleep, it will be a lot harder to keep me alive. Last night, I was on oxygen and my fingers turned purple, then still on oxygen, two of them started turning blue (not fingernails, FINGERS). That just means that even with oxygen I am not converting enough or the circulation is screwed up. I am just a little worried about brain damage. I prefer to have brain damage after DOING something, not just because it is evening and my body is tired. Screws up my idea of PLANNED dangerous activity when sitting watching US TV causes me ACTUAL brain damage.

Going to San Fran: anyone got those cyborg bodies of sci fic perfected yet?


FridaWrites said...

I've been reading, just behind on comments while trying to hold down the fort.

Abled people just can't seem to stop themselves from saying what they shouldn't. I always feel resentful when others can wear high heels in places where I can barely stand.

Hope the digestive system is back to normal without too much invasiveness soon.

cheryl g said...

Hahahahahahaha - Sir Bare Naked Ladies. I laughed so loud the neighbors are probably wondering what's going on.

I need to warn you about something having to do with your adopted family. Our youngest sister was obsessed with Barbara Cartland during her teen years. She read every Cartland romance she could get her hands on and decorated her bedroom in frilly Barbara Cartland pink. She even had a plush toy little white dog. It was very scary to a young tomboy like me and I avoided her room at all costs.

"Good exercise, huh" Geez what an ignoranus...

OK, more confirmation that your parentals are whack.

I have never had anyone come to Human Resources and tell me they were intrigued by an application. What a weird thing to say.

I will email you about the medical stuff.

Victor Kellar said...

First: Watching Amercian TV is the most guaranteed method of getting brain damage

Second: Wasn't Mary Kay also a whore for pink?

Third: I recently got back a letter from a job app "Victor, we loved your resme. Any company would be happy to have you as an employee. We thought your demo reel was exciting, we have learned so much from it. We are happy to say we have filled the position ..." So, this company wanted to be unhappy, they are stealing ideas from my demo reel and using them to train their new editor ..

Fourth: As to your body functions: There are a lot of shitty jobs and shitty bosses out there. What's your point?

Oh yeh "welcome back"

Neil said...

You are deceitful and dishonest? Not after THAT "plumbing" description!!!

The pink, high heeled lady was probably trying to make "polite conversation" but had no point of reference because she saw the wheelchair and not the person.

I'm jut curious to know how women can stand in high heels; some of them are too strange for words. :)

Cheryl: the band wouldn't be knighted, but the members would be: Sir Steven Page sounds good to me!

Hmph. Deceitful my ass. You're the most honest person I know. maybe not the most polite, or discreet, but honest. And I love you for that.

Zen hugs!

yanub said...

Elizabeth-intriguing-McClung, you were supposed to pick up your cyborg body while in Japan. But, no, you bought gifts and didn't leave any room at all for the cyborg body. I suppose you would also have needed a mad scientist who was intent on programming you to rid the world of his nemesis, and I'm sure you wouldn't have gotten that past customs. And it would have been hard going explaining why you have a scientist crammed in your duffle.

You should thank Pink Mules Lady. She has come up with your job. You will advertise at the Y that you have a cunning exercise plan sure to combat saggy upper arms. I can see it now, as you send your army of able-bodies up the steepest hill in their hospital-class wheelchairs! Even more fun when they start coming down! Make sure to take out life insurance on them first.

Crap about the shit. That can't be a good thing. Now that Linda knows, how are you avoiding being dragged off for a body cavity search at your local ER?

As for US tv causing brain damage, well, yeah. I thought everyone knew. Turn off your teevees, peoples! We control the horizontal. We control the vertical. Bwahahaha!

Your parents. Wow. I have no idea what they might mean, but they do seem to have a knack for projection. All I know is that I was unaware the Bitch was ever away. But now that she's back, I await her lesson plans.

SharonMV said...

YaY for the bitch! Pink mule lady needs to go back through the time vortex where she belongs.(Now for my one medical advice comment. Go to the Doctor about the blood! I'm not saying please, cause i can be a bit of a bitch too.)

Continue telling everything - making people feel what it's like. Even if sometimes you make me feel it too much. People need to know.

I've been dreaming of coming to Canada this fall. Now SF - that's much closer. Might actually be possible. Must go now, but may be back to write more later.


shiva said...

"like the nasty old cat they keep dumping in the river, I come BACK."

You just reminded me of this:


Yes, i'm not Canadian... but, somehow or other, it must have got shown on UK TV, and i saw it and LOVED it when i was a kid, and for literally YEARS watched all the cartoon programmes in the hope that they would show it again, because i loved the music so much... so by prompting me to search for it on YouTube, you made my day :)

and, yes, you are just like that cat :) (and that cartoon has some pretty fucking DARK humour, especially at the end, for a so called kids cartoon :o )

Carapace said...

Is it wrong that I really want to know more about how, exactly, you manage the bowel issues? Is there any food that helps/noteably hurts? It is intriguing;).

Having survived a great many amazing nosebleeds, and chugged a corresponding impressive amount of my own blood, I'd suggest your bloody butt may have been an effect of the bloody nose. Or just a small bit of intestinal bleeding. Still, I'd say see the doctor-- I hate humping myself to the doctor, but blood from improper orifices is one of the things that causes me to go. Er, sometimes. Then again, for all I know, in Canada butt blood gets you put on a ten year wait list.

And once again, you have put something Just Right. It does feel, sometimes, like the body wants to explode. I am convinced that moments like that are what started the practice of trepanation.

Thanks for sharing the tale of Pink Mule Woman. Here she is being so Inspiring, and Brave, going out in public despite her rare and nigh-fatal lack of reality awareness. I weep at her powder puffy feet.

Heather said...

Have you considered the possibility that Pink Mules Lady is Hello Kitty in human-drag?

Lene Andersen said...

Good to se you back! I like it when you snarl.

Bummer on the job, but I'm impressed you got a rejection letter. That normally doesn't happen anymore.

I think you maybe have to be a woman to know Barbara Cartland? She was the first romance novels I read as a teen, holed up in a hopsital for several years. Great company, very undemanding and y'know what? I learned a lot about the 18th century from reading her and that got me started on reading more about the era, so she did some good amongst the pink.

Your parents... um... WTF?

And lastly, the shitting blood. Your plan about not saying anything might have derailed. Linda reads the blog, right? But yeah, I get why - getting something shoved up your arse is not a pleasant thought. Although for once, maybe a good idea. She says bossily.

Neil said...

Cheryl: I'm sorry that I took you to task about Sir BNL. I'll take that up with Beth next time I visit her... Yeah, I DO wish.

Beth: I have to admit that I wouldn't have caught the Barbara Cartland reference either. I haven't read her novels, and I'm just not focused enough on pink to realize she's important to the world.

But Her Majesty would NEVER be seen in public with that dog. The Royals insist on Corgies...

Beth Fitness Instructor McClung: "Work those chairs, swing them poi!" What an interesting image that is.

As for your intimate moment with your innards on the toilet: I think you've kind outed yourself there, ducks. Blood is supposed to go round and round,and f it starts exiting that way, things aren't good. But you already knew that, didn't you? And now Linda probably knows, too.

Love and zen hugs, dear Beth.

PS: I read your Ouch! piece, and commented. I wouldn't stand for the attitude you describe, either.

Veralidaine said...

I discovered a lovely site this morning: http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com

This combined with an old Chewing the Fat post gives me a great idea. Instead of wasting spoons to talk to people like Pink Mules (not that you DID talk to her, but sometimes you do respond to ignorant, rude people) you should just put a big note on the back of your wheelchair:

"Attention, Victoria residents! I have a limited amount of time and energy, and I prefer to spend it communicating with my loved ones. Therefore, the following comments will not receive a response (but may receive a death glare):

You're so inspirational!

Are you lost?

Ha, ha, great exercise!

Oh, you poor, poor thing!

I don't know HOW you do it.

Should you be out alone?

(add other frequent ignorant comments here)"

Then you can just wheel by and let them read the sign.

Dawn Allenbach said...

Regarding the woman in pink mules (pink mules -- *shiver*): People think they're being clever. The poor saps have no idea how stupid they sound. I've lost track of how many people who, when seeing my friend Naomi (in her manual wheelchair) and me (in my power wheelchair) out together, ask us, "Are you racing?"

Have you considered you may have hemorrhoids?

I for one applaud the return of the BITCH (Elizabeth "Fucking Bitch" McClung -- YEAH!) and your determination to go to SF in the Fall. I wish I had the money to join you.

Judith said...

You are most definately back!
I was always scared of Barbara Cartland - I knew she had to be a work of fiction but what if she turned out to be real? And then she did! Not good. I read one of her books once and her heroines couldn't speak in full sentences without swooning - this was also rather worrying.
I fear that Linda is so going to insist on you visiting a doctor re. the blood thing which sounds a little alarming (but possibly your definition of alarming and mine differ).
You are kind of right about our Honours system. Do something fairly average often enough and for long enough and you get an OBE, MBE, CBE etc. You also become 'a national institution'. It's almost guaranteed and very enouraging for those of us with limited ambitions....

Tayi said...

Back when my doctors thought my IBS might be something they cared about, like ulcers, they told me that if I were to discover blood in my stools it would be a seriously bad sign of internal bleeding that could kill me. I think that may only be for old black blood, though: as it goes through your digestive system it curdles or whatever. So if you're getting bright red blood it's probably a bleed somewhere close to the exit- like hemorrhoids- and not too worrisome, but if you start getting gross black blood it means its coming from a bleed higher up in the system and you should probably get it checked out. It may make you happier to know also, that ulcer treatments are usually really effective and not at all painful, so if you do have an ulcer going to the doctor might not be too traumatic.

Anyways... pink shoes. How awful. Going to San Francisco sounds like a great idea, though. I went there a couple times several years ago, and I remember two main things about it. A) the weather is ridiculously cold all the time, so you'll probly like it. and B) there are a ton of hills; we were there in a car with a manual transmission and there were several times that we had trouble getting started again after stopping while going uphill. So maybe bring a power wheelchair or possibly a strapping young person to do all the work of pushing for you.

A. J. Luxton said...

Russell T. Davies (the current showrunner for Doctor Who) just got Officer of the Order of the British Empire. That's not quite a title, but is one of those related things. Reference blog name here, I guess.

Well, if anyone deserves a title, I suppose it would have to be the guy who brought back Doctor Who, for all that he can't quite write a perfect season-ender. Insofar as there is a British Empire, it's established these days by the fact that their TV is so much better than the stuff over here that a bunch of US teenagers and SF fans are defecting.

As for getting up hills: I've never ridden a wheelchair up one, but I can certainly believe it's tough, given that cars and bikes sometimes just crap out on the things. WTF at someone who doesn't know this? Wheels just aren't built to do a good job with steep inclines...

Tammy said...

First, as for the high heels...I could wear them every day. LOVE THEM..as long as I don't have to walk too far in them. lol

Okay, the blood in stool is ICK! I won't lecture, you know what needs to be done. and once again ICK and Ouch.

I read your post and grinned from ear to ear while reading. You are back and I am SO glad. Can you hear the applauding and whistles?

I have never read the Barbara Cartland books, I'm an American, and yet, I got your joke immediately.

My least favorite comment when I'm seen with my cane is "you aren't old enough for that". I got pissed after hearing it several times in one day and said "I can drink, I can vote, and I can carry a cane if I damn well please. I didn't know that seniors own the market on them" She rolled her eyes at me and walked away. I also will claim to be 65 when that comment is made sometimes. They usually just give me that uncomfortable laugh, and avoid eye contact after that.

Glad you are back Beth. Give us all the hard to handle, brutal truths.

Lene Andersen said...

p.s. With my electric wheelchair, I usually get the "do you have a license for that thing" - I estimate that I've heard it 786 times in the past 10 years. Or "you'll get a speeding ticket!". Seriously, people. Did it occur to you that you aren't being wittily original?

I went to SF. Fantastic city. Bring strapping ablebodied person.

Maggie said...

Hey-I'll email you to. Not going to lecture you about the blood thing because: 1. Linda has already found out 2. GI bleeds are really bad and smell bad too and if you are still up and moving around it's probably not 3. Cheryl is going to call you tonight and chew you a new one.
I had no idea who this Cartwright woman is. I never read the romance genre so I lack that portion of pop culture. I was very happy to spend my teen years lost in more worthy causes such as depeche mode and piers anthony.
love to all

Maggie said...

see, i'm so in the dark I can't even get her name right.

Elizabeth McClung said...

Fridawrites: Yeah, the comments. AS for feeling resentful, I can honestly say I don't have that problem with high heels, maybe because I don't need to be 6'6".

Cheryl: Good, glad someone got that joke. That younger sister sounds creepy, I have heard of the princess di obsession down to the hairstyles but getting a stuffed dog to BE barbara Cartland....scary!

Victor: well I usually watch it at night and have survive so far but night is when I have TIA's so I want to make sure that US TV is not actual causing my brain to implode!

Yeah, the pink cars they gave out too at Mary Kay: shudder!

That is the far and away most rude and bizaare letter for rejection I have heard, it is like saying, "we like your novel, we're pitching the movie idea but it doesn't suit our publishing needs at this time."

Neil: High heels makes your ass high and tight, ergo, better looking, plus you have to stand straighter, so breast bigger - beyond that, there is just such a foot fetish about them, I tend to find the women who go one about "Shoes to die for" kind of strange, since I buy shoes which are easy to wear or have skulls on them or are steel toe boots to make people move aside when I wheel through - have to admit the five inch heels did make me look SEXY! Getting them off while unconscious was problematic however, ask linda!

Yanub: The scary part is that I could probably Make "The wheelasizer!" the new exercise machine and sell it at 2:00 am to people who want to exercise but do it sitting down, which is basically a wheelchair and treadmill combined. Watch TV and lose 60 pounds on the Wheelasizer!

Nice Outer Limits reference, or was that twilight zone? Yeah Linda was like, WHAT? And some of the emts who read this are like, "GET thyself to a doctor" so I have promised that if I see it again in the next week, I will and learn new things about the downstairs. Remember, I am still trying to get a CAT scan!

Sharon: If you can get to SF, than that is doubling the motivation I need to hang on and keep motivated and keep active to go - SF, Japan Town and Sharon!

Shiva: I think I grew up on that, so yeah, that cat came back. That was the song I was referring to.

Carapace: Nope, not really bowel wise, I eat normally, I use a probiotic to replace my large intestine and lower intestine and then use physical manipulation. Fun! After that is it the "Waiting game" or "lets see how long until gravity works"

Could be from the nose bleeds or a high pressure bleed somewhere. I will wait and see, if I fart and blood comes out - then I go and see a doctor!

True enough, I should be thinking about her brave and plucky plight at being so fashion impaired.

Heather: that thought is just too disturbing to think on further!

Lene: yeah, I'm back, or at least I am not going to let a little thing like fatigue or memory loss or crap like that keep me down.

Yes, I can just see barbara cartland being at hospitals, she was at the hospice along with reader's digest condences books...I asked if they had like....REAL books. (sorry for dissing your teen reading).

Neil: your defence of me borders into such backhanded compliments I think you just bitchslapped me off the stage. "Not polite, not discreet" - I really am trying to cut down my swearing and I am VERY polite to about 90-95% of the human population (those who aren't managers or "it's not my problem" people

Veralidaine: I would except that I am making a big sign saying "Demylanization IS a spinal cord injury" just to piss off Rick Hansen when I protest Wheels in Motion in a week or two. Once I found out it has NEVER been protested before, wow, maybe they should say they represent all people with disabilities in wheelchairs and then give money out only to people with spinal cord injuries - a topic for another day!

Dawn: yeah, I have just moved from tall jokes to wheelie comments. Like people who say, "Good on you" because I am wheeling past them as they water the garden. How do they know I am not returning from cutting up bodies with a hacksaw? It is my locomotion, not a morality statement!

The 'roids are definately ruled out.

Judith: Yes, I never have developed the needed qualities to swoon since mostly thought I DO like Cartland characters wear corsets I expect HER characters have not had corset removed when swooned and thus topless at town library, topless atop graveyard plot, topless pretty much all over town. That never made it in the books, if it had, I might have read more.

Yup, you just be sort of obsessive and put out enough whatever and you get SOME recognition from the crown - woo hoo!

Tayi: it is not bright red, it is blackish but I am still of the wait and see, I mean if I fall over more than usual, like 10 times a day instead of 6 then I will go to the doctor/hospital. Knowing the treatment isn't likely painful means I might mention it to my doctor, the problem is that I don't want my GP to know that I don't have a functional upper and lower bowel because then I have to drink evil goop (like a Gallon) to compensate and so far, I am getting on fine (the heat exhaustion with cramping and voiding for 3 hours helps clear out any backlog!). I know this is a fucked up way of living but....I am used to it - does that sounds crazy?

Yeah, I've been told there are hills and I will need like two peope to stop me from accelerating to decapitation like speeds.

A.J. Luxton: Actually considering Russell, that is appropriate, it probably allows him a palaquin in Sri Lanka or somewhere like that. I mean he does obsess about time travel and destroying britian for decades and they give him an award for it - perfect!

Yes, well, the other part is SHE wasn't walking up the hill, she was on the flat and level crosswalk at the top of the hill. So she wasn't even having to expend the energy to walk uphill. Yeah, uphills hard.

Tammy: You can wear your pink high heels as much as you want but seriously you wear MULES outside, those are like for the bedroom and bathroom?

I am glad the postcard was a hit and who hasn't seen a passing photo of Barbara Cartland and not felt the slap of surrealism?

Well, if you are up for it, you can go to today's blog and share your own hard brutal truths.


MAggie: Hey, I read Piers Anthony, who wrote like, WAY too many books, what was that series that reduced itself to just a giant book of science fiction puns?

Cheryl has called and I am chastized and will be on the lookout tomorrow for anything remotely suspecious but if it is nosebleed coming out the other end, I am NOT getting a colonoscopy. I have had RADIOACTIVE material injected into me, I have been inside MRI machines for almost 2 hours, I have had lights trying to make me seizure for an hour twice, I have had many things, some invasive and that is one I do not want - had an pre op enema and a pre op (whatever they call diarriah making pills with fasting) and that was plenty for me, No more! Of course, "Died becuase she was too stubborn to stop bleeding out her ass" would look pretty idiotic on a tombstone, wouldn't it?

FridaWrites said...

Piers Anthony--it was Xanth. The first few were fine, but I couldn't keep going after a while.

Hope you've been to doctor--I will keep reading to find out.

Gaina said...

People say things like that because they don't know how to talk to someone in a wheelchair - "why are they in the wheelchair? Do I ignore the wheelchair and focus on the person, or will that come accross as ignoring a big part of who the person is. I know I'll make a light-hearted friendly comment!"

You should meet my friend Camilla, her humour is completely inappropriate **rofl**.

We went to the park yesterday and she starts saying (in a SLOW...LOUD..VOICE) 'ARE YOU WARM ENOUGH DEAR!! DO YOU WANT AN ICE CREAM WHEN WE GET TO THE PARK? WE CAN FEED THE DUCKIES!....there's a good girl' (smiles at a bemused passer-by). I was absolutely in tears with laughter.

Let me know what happens when you get the bloody stools check out.

I have found squirrels and friendly pigeons. Video's to follow.