Montgomery Road

I'm really hoping it's cats that look like Hitler, because I can never get enough of that.

2011-06-30T19:10:00.003-07:00

I'm not a big fan of Facebook. It started off as a fun way to stay in touch with your college friends, then turned into a corporate shill/nexus of narcissism/wretched hive of scum and villainy. The people with the least to say seem to say the most. To quote Mark Zuckerberg, "Rob Curtis is gearing up for Friday. Who cares?"

But it is a good way for companies to advertise. Get yourself on The Facebook and show the kids you're cool. Spread the word about your Medicare Supplement Insurance via social networking. Sure, why not?

But if you're going to show off your followers, you should probably make sure they're not Neo Nazis first. I'm looking you at IMDB:

More like nazIMDB.

Right there next to poor Columbo is a swastika. Poor, poor (Jewish) Columbo. Not cool, guys. Not cool.

Although possibly fitting. It's also next to Mater, who I'm pretty sure is a skinhead. Why else would he not have a hood? He shaved it off! "Dad gum, I hate minorities!" And Finn McMissile has a little Hitler moustache. No wonder the critics hated it.

How can you be a Nazi and "like" IMDB? Every good racist has paranoid delusions about Jews controlling the film industry. You're really phoning in your hatred, Omer.

Velocirapture

2011-05-20T18:29:00.002-07:00

With the end of the world being tomorrow and all, I figured I should go out with one last blog post. You know, one for the road. Or one for the light beam or Bifrost or whatever it is that will carry us to Heaven.

That's right, "us." I'm getting raptured up to Heaven, unlike all of you heathens. Not on my own, of course. On a scale of 1 to Mother Theresa, I put my odds of being raptured somewhere between Charlie Sheen and Arnold Schwarzenegger. No, I plan on clinging to a non-Catholic priest at the last second and going up stowaway style. Just like that whale lady grabbing on to Kirk to sneak into the 23rd century in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

Sure it won't be a true rapture, but it will still count - kind of like a statutory rapture. So I'll be up in Heaven enjoying The End Times in the lap of luxury (presumably with mountains of cocaine and free-but-quality hookers) and you, my pitiable readers, will be stuck in Hell-on-Earth. The best you can hope for is a Mad Max or Book of Eli, but really you'll be looking at more of a Cormac McCarthy's The Road type situation. Jibbly. If I were you I'd cross my fingers and hope somebody with your name has been really good, and that the rapture beam operator isn't terribly bright.

Even with my happy ending fast approaching, I still have my regrets. Buying so many Treasury Bills that reach maturity on 22 May 2011 is one. Not updating this blog more often is another. Of course I wish I'd spent more time with my family. But man, that Treasury Bill thing is really going to kill me.

I'm curious what's going to happen in the 5 months between rapture and the true end of the world. Obviously I'm hoping for zombies, and apparently that's where the CDC has their money, too. Other possible options include (in order of likelihood):

1. Flood
2. Fire
3. Famine
4. Irresistibly cute bunnies that explode into poison gas clouds when approached
5. Plague

Just remember, no matter the situation you can never have too many shotguns.

On that nugget, I will bid you a fond adieu. If we don't make it past tomorrow, so long and thanks for all the ish!

Guppy Breathing

2010-06-29T10:08:00.003-07:00

I was walking out of a Best Buy when I discovered that little gem sitting on the quarter toy machine. Apparently it's an educational booklet put out by the EPA to educate children about asthma. But like so many things in life, it confuses and befuddles me.

I understand the reason for making your representative a goldfish. Nobody is allergic to goldfish, and you can't even touch 'em anyway. Slimy bastards. But if you're picking a hypoallergenic spokescreature, why name him "Dusty?" That's a trigger! With this approach you lose all the cuddle-factor while still evoking the image of worsening respiratory status. Go entirely hypoallergenic or not at all, don't half-ass it. If you made a line of kosher food products, you wouldn't make the mascot "Adolf the Dreidel."

Also, "asthma triggers" and "funbook" don't really belong in the same sentence. Maybe the Better Breathing Funbook would be more aprapos. There's nothing fun about having your asthma triggered. Except for all the attention, and hospital food, and (if you're at PCH) playing video games with the Child Life people. Okay, I take it back. PCH is pretty sweet, and it is a little fun to be there. Just ask "Histamine the Anaphylactic Shock Bumble Bee" and his Allergic Reaction Funbook.

If you'd like to see the book in it's entirety, check it out here. In the meantime, I'm working on a new mascot for the next edition. Meet Puff Daddy, the Asthma Metered Dose Inhaler:

Yikes! So angry! Maybe needs a little work...

That's enough, Justin Bieber

2010-06-08T14:44:00.004-07:00

(please note, if you are Justin Bieber or if you've contracted Bieber Fever I'd advise you to stop reading right now. And may god have mercy on your soul)

What's the deal with this kid? He seriously creeps me the hell out. Let's break it down:

1. He is way too young to be singing the things he sings. His first album was released when he was 15, and it contained such songs as One Time, One Less Lonely Girl, and Love Me. You are not old enough to be singing about loving the ladies! Or in his words, "I'm c__ing for you." Inappropriate!

I'm not a stuffy old man, I know that kids are growing up faster these days. And with "The Twilight Saga: New Moon" starring the underage Taylor Lautner, pedophilia is so hot right now. But come on, people. You need to wait until at least Tanner Stage 3 before singing songs about "how many ____ you ______" (his lyrics, not mine).

2. What's with the hair, dude? It looks like you were inspired by Julia Roberts in Hook. But to be fair, who wasn't?

Alternatively, it looks like Captain Caveman is giving birth to your face.

3. Too much collagen in the lips, bra. You're like a slightly more masculine version of Angelina Jolie. Scratch that, she can kick ass. A slightly less masculine version of Angelina Jolie.

4. People have actually been trampled trying to see him. Trampled! Don't get me wrong, I love a good trampling. It's even fun to say...trample. But you've got to save your tramplings for important things, like Apple store openings and iCarly appearances. If you start trampling your friends for every flash-in-the-pan teen pop sensation, they'll lose their meaning. Why do you think we don't run people out of town on a rail anymore?

-----

There you have it, America. 3 good reasons and 1 mediocre reason to grow bored with Justin Bieber. Sorry, Bieber, it's time for you to spend the rest of eternity in Fólkvangr away from the rest of us.

I managed to mention Justin Bieber, Twilight, Taylor Lautner and iCarly all in one post. Now I just need to sit back and wait for all the unsuspecting tween googlers to be lured into my trap.

King Chicken!

2010-04-05T19:47:00.001-07:00

Top of the muffin to you!

2010-03-26T14:03:00.004-07:00

Happy belated St Patrick's Day! I like St Patty's day for several reasons. First, I like the color green. Even if it isn't easy being it. Second, the first time Legal Counsel and I went to Disneyland together was on or around St Patrick's Day. Third, it's an excuse to drink. Fourth, it's an excuse to eat slimy beef and gas-inducing vegetables:

Fifth, and perhaps most of all, is the Shamrock Shake. I've probably written multiple times on the virtues of the Shamrock Shake, but I can't emphasize enough how amazing it is. This semi-gelatinous, unnaturally green beverage truly is modern ambrosia. Here it is, in all its glory:

Unfortunately, when Legal Counsel and I went to McDonald's, we had to endure this delightful exchange.

(Legal Counsel is wearing a sweater with Mickey Mouse on it)
McDonald's Lady: If you think Disney is popular here, you should see it in China.
Legal Counsel: Oh, have you been to China?
McDonald's Lady: No, but in the Chinese Cultural Center here they have a whole wall of Disney in their movie room.
(awkward silence while I ignore the fact that every store in America that sells DVD's has a Disney section)
McDonald's Lady: They even put Mickey in one of those Chinese hats!
(awakward silence. What the hell is a Chinese hat?)
McDonald's Lady: I have a theory that animation from one culture is always more popular in other cultures. Like the Chinese. And Mexicans.

As you can see, things started to get a little racist. Why do things always go racist around me? Anyway, we managed to keep our trappers shut and politely nod long enough to avoid getting a green, slimy lougie in our green, slimy drinks.

Only 356 days until St Patrick's Day 2011...

I'm looking at the man in the mirror

2010-03-06T16:35:00.002-07:00

I know I haven’t written in quite some time, and for that I apologize. Before you judge me too harshly, just hear me out. And I know, excuses are like assholes, everybody has one and they all stink. But also like assholes, I have two excuses. First, I work a lot. That’s pretty self explanatory. The second reason…well, that takes a little more explanation.

You see, I’ve developed an interest in someone other than my wife. And that interest takes a significant portion of my time - thinking about this person, trying to catch glimpses of them, etc. I know it’s wrong to announce a bombshell like that on the internets before I‘ve even told my wife, the lovely Legal Counsel, but I don’t have the chutzpah to say it to her face and she has to find out somehow.

The person of interest in this scenario is our neighbor. A magnificent specimen of a human being, I must say. I first laid eyes on him fairly soon after moving into our marital nest, but my infatuation has taken some time to blossom.

He’s in his late forties or early fifties. He’s not a fan of wearing shirts while in his condo, or of keeping the blinds closed, or of exercise. He is a fan of food, and watching TV, and body hair. I’ve tried to come up with the best way to describe him, and I’ve found that I need to invent new phrases to adequately illustrate his semblance. The two best are fleshglobe and meatsphere.

If you had a friend who thought himself to be hilarious but others thought to be vulgar and offensive (aka Montgomery), and that friend decided to dress as a giant scrotum for Halloween, he would probably look much like our neighbor. Round…hairy…but not quite as wrinkly as the real thing.

Normally I wouldn’t be so concerned with a morbidly obese man. A person’s health and lifestyle are their own business and I’m no Adonis myself. But this guy’s body is so prominently and unashamedly on display that I feel he’s inviting discussion. Hell, this could be some really high concept modern art exhibit of which I’m totally oblivious. And if it is, then I say bravo. This is way more provocative than that Jackson Pollack hack.

So I find myself walking back and forth between my car and my condo, hoping that he’ll be there in all his half-naked, quarter-ton glory. So every time you find yourself on my blog and fail to see a new post, realize that I’m thinking of that beefcake. And you should do the same thing.

Ooh, beefcake - that’s another good descriptor.

I don't know but Alaska

2009-06-10T13:28:00.003-07:00

I recently returned from a graduation cruise to Alaska, made possible by a generous grant from Legal Counsel. It was a lot of fun, although for reasons I'm not allowed to go into I'm no longer allowed in our 49th state. Shame.

Before I left, I learned a few interesting facts about "The Big Easy." Allow me to share:

The state is the exact opposite of Rhode Island, both in size and ideology. As such, coffee milk is illegal and residents are allowed to stand more than 5'3" in height.
The song "Gold Digger" by Kanye West is forbidden from being played within state boundaries, as it gives a negative connotation to what Alaskans describe as "The Noblest Profession."
Bald eagles are as common in Alaska as pigeons are in New York. Therefore, they are treated in a similar manner. And a 1932 law still in the books, initially created to help depression-stricken Alaskans, allows any US citizen to trade 12 eagle beaks for 10 cents at city hall. This is the origin of the phrase "a dime a dozen."
80% of the economy is derived from prostitution and prostitution-related careers (brothel inspectors, STD clinics, bouncers, donkey trainers, etc).
Despite statements to the contrary, it is not possible to see Russia from Sarah Palin's house. However, an elaborate series of fiber optics and mirrors allow Russians to see into Sarah Palin's bedroom.
Due to it's relative isolation, inaccessibility and cold climate, most US government zombie contingency plans involve evacuation to Alaska.
State flower: sockeye salmon
State bird: king salmon
State mineral: chum salmon
State fish: willow ptarmigan
State motto: "Mo money, mo problems"
State nickname: "The Final Frontier" - the subject of an ongoing lawsuit with the estate of Gene Roddenberry
30 Days of Night was a documentary
The indigenous peoples of Alaska do have a surprising number of words for "snow." However, the "snow" they are referring to is cocaine.
The exchange rate between US and Alaskan currency is typically equal to the exchange rate between US and Canadian currency. A nice gentleman in Skagway allowed me to exchange my US dollars for Alaskan dollars at a rate of 1.05 to 1. As a side note, Alaskan currency looks a lot like rocks.

There you go. That's all of my Alaska knowledge. Use it well. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm still in the process of picking gold dust out of my teeth.

On Doctoring

2009-05-13T13:03:00.004-07:00

It's just 2 short days until I officially become a doctor. Pretty exciting, but also a little scary. Sure I feel that school has prepared me to be a physician, but it's still a lot of responsibility. I've got people's health and lives in my hands, and who knows what kind of situations I might encounter.

So I did what I always do when I'm approaching a major life change: I consulted my life coach. Well, my two life coaches actually. Their names are Flathead and Roundhead, ages 10 and 8 respectively. They're my cousins.

I asked them - "Boys, what will it be like as a doctor? What can I expect?" They decided to answer my questions in the form of a drawing, which is good because I don't do well with words. Here it is:

It was drawn on an Olive Garden™ menu, which is my medium of choice for most art. It is their interpretation of life as a doctor. Let me break it down for you, as it was explained to me.

"Doctor Sword" in right hand
Dynamite in left hand
Eye patch
Spiky green hair
Surrounded by flames
Flying monkey minion (upper right corner)

Needless to say, this drawing has put my mind at ease. Being a doctor is going to be friggin' awesome! Weaponry? Explosives? Avian simian servants? Sign me up! I thought I had to give up those dreams when I chose medical school over the graduate program in Mad Science at Case Western, but the two are surprisingly similar. Looks like I need to get to work hollowing out a mountain for my lair.

Now, does anybody know if they give us the Doctor Sword at graduation, or do I have to order my own?

Let me flip for you. Ain't I something?

2009-04-20T17:36:00.004-07:00

Disney must be building up hype for a Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy HD DVD Box Set or something because there sure have been a lot of pirate attacks in the news recently. I personally think it's a little extreme just to sell some extra tapes, but Disney likes to go all out.

Anyway, I was browsing my favorite online news source, the China Daily, when I stumbled on this article. Apparently some pirates were trying to attack a Chinese merchant ship (ironically loaded with pirated DVDs) near the Gulf of Aden (named after late 90s indie pop band Aden) when a swarm of dolphins swam between the merchants and the pirates, thus thwarting any possible pillaging and/or plundering. They even have a picture:

I'm usually the last to admit when I'm in the wrong, but this time I have to. Aquaman, I owe you an apology. I take back 30% of the awful things I've said about you. You're not a total waste of space. Apparently your powers do have a practical application every once in a while. By risking the lives of hundreds of innocent dolphins, you were able to protect some communists and for that we should thank you. I'll stop telling everybody that you should be kicked out of the Justice League and be replaced by Matter-Eater Lad...for now.

But so help me, if you don't do at least one heroic thing a year I'm going to...well...I shall taunt you a second time! And I still think Michael Phelps can swim faster than you - provided there's a bag of Funyuns in front of him.

In related news: Navy SEALs kick ass.

In other news: I'm still on the fence about Harbor SEALs. Sure they're cute, but...

Okay, they kick ass too.

The Easter Bunny laid an egg

2009-04-14T19:14:00.003-07:00

Let me educate all you pagans out there: last Sunday was Easter Sunday - a day commemorating zombie Jesus clawing his way out of his tomb to feast on human brains...and sins. Wait, isn't Easter a pagan holiday to begin with? Shoot, I didn't teach anybody anything.

Anyway, Legal Counsel and I celebrated Holy Saturday by driving to Florence, AZ and watching her niece/nephews indulge in a free Easter ellipsoid hunt put on by a local church. The eggs were not real eggs, since nobody likes the crushing realization that their minutes of fun have only resulted in a basket full of off-color hard-boiled eggs. And they didn't contain candy because candy is the devil. No, these eggs contained toys...special toys.

The church advertised that they would "fill the park with 10,000 eggs." That statement should have triggered the realization that they were going for quantity over quality. The toys were terrible. There were pogs folded in half to fit in the egg, thus ruining any pog potential, or pogtential. There was a button that I'm pretty sure had a picture of Joey McIntyre on it. There were creepy monsters sculpted of the cheapest plastic possible, likely carcinogenic. And everything else looked both cheap and used, like D-Rock's mom.

Basically the eggs were stuffed with toys that would have been kicked out of the Island of Misfit Toys. But for me, the highlight were the patches. You see, some of the eggs contained iron-on patches that looked more worn-out than D-Rock's mom. See for yourself:

See what I mean? Here's the rundown:

"Store Manager" - for all those kids who dream of one day managing a store
"Run for your life, United States Army, 100 mile club" - way more difficult to join than the mile high club
"Southwest" - for fans of the cheapest airline around
"UAW 235" - for kids dreaming of working for American Axle in Hamtramck, MI
"Arkansas Air Courier" - when you absolutely need to get a crate of hog jowls from Little Rock to Fort Smith within 72 hours, choose Arkansas Air Courier
"Dover/Davenport" - finally a patch displaying my favorite city in Deleware and my least favorite city in Iowa
"Eastern" - an airline that went out of business in 1991 (to be fair, it was at one time the official airline of Walt Disney World)

And my personal favorite:

"Chevron Eastern Region So. East Division Safety Award" - need I say more?

Who would possibly think these are good prizes for children? I'm pretty sure the church placed an order with a meth addict, who subsequently spent all the money on meth and filled the eggs with garbage. Then when he ran out of garbage he started ripping patches off his bomber jacket. Twas a sad day indeed.

Wicked, tricksy, false!

2009-04-06T17:32:00.004-07:00

I'm in the middle of my last rotation as a medical student, and it's a rotation with a lot of down-time. For Montgomery, down-time means two things: scheming and eating. And being at the county hospital where food is free for students, I'm doing more of the latter than the former.

I eat to kill time when the library is locked in the morning. I eat to kill time before rounds. I eat when I get sick of studying in the library. I'm doing so much eating that I do believe I'm turning into a hobbit. From Wikipedia:

[Hobbits] enjoy at least seven meals a day, when they can get them – breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and (later in the evening) supper.

Yeah, that sounds about right. Let's check.

Breakfast: eggs, taters*, bacon, juice
Second breakfast: donut, milk
Elevenses: cookie, milk
Luncheon: entree o' the day, soda
Afternoon tea: apple, bottled water
Dinner: something at home
Supper: popcorn/random food in the kitchen/a fish so juicy sweet

Yep, I'm definitely eating enough to qualify as a hobbit. But I'm okay with that...hobbits are probably my favorite fictional humanoid. That's right, kobolds, you're in second place. Maybe you should step it up during next year's tournament.

Update
I found another item that looks like two cocci and a bacillus:
It's a spoon rest discovered at a lawyer party I attended this past weekend. And the best part is, if you turn it upside down it looks like my first apartment.

* boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew

Fallacy

2009-03-31T17:40:00.003-07:00

I know, I know - it's been over a month since I last posted. Well save all your griping, any complaints you may possess have already been scrawled into the side of my car by Legal Counsel.

I've been busy. I recently did a dermatology rotation at the Mayo Clinic which was a bit hairy. I had a rash of bad luck during the final exam, but I think I shaved through by the skin of my teeth. Epidermis. During that rotation I learned that maybe, just maybe, rich people get better medical care. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me on this one. It seems a little odd that you can get an appointment with a gastroenterologist because your "fart sounded a little funny."

Anyway, that's all over. More importantly, I matched into a residency program! I won't say where, but I will tell you:

It was my first choice
It's in Phoenix
If the faculty doesn't own hats, they better go buy some because they're going to need to hold on to them. Montgomery's coming to dinner!

Family Medicine, here I come!

To make amends for my paucity of posts, I've decided to scour my cell phone for pictures of things that remind me of the Pac-Man and Ms. Pac Man visiting the Washington Monument.

This little beauty was constructed of hash browns by Legal Counsel during a pre-Sea World breakfast this weekend. She's an artist. Try to ignore the ridiculous quantity of grease stains on the place mat.

This snapshot of the Desert Botanical Gardens is simply organic. A cactus' insatiable passion turns its life into a circus of debauchery.

St. Johns Thwart

2009-02-19T19:11:00.002-07:00

That 9-year-old double murderer kid agreed to a plea today. Charged with murdering his father and another man "cough"zombies*cough*, he plead to Negligent Homicide. Many of you may be confused by this plea, but that's largely because alcoholic cirrhosis has turned your brains into nothing more than intricate sponges.

However, I'm married to an attorney which I believe makes me more than qualified to explain it (I also believe it means I only have to obey federal laws, but that's a story for another day). You see, this is negligent homicide because he neglected to not murder two people.

Surprisingly, there are numerous examples of this kind of plea throughout history. For example, in 1975 Faisal bin Musa'id plead guilty to negligent regicide and was subsequently beheaded. More recently, I signed a guilty plea for negligent practicing-law-without-a-license...the original charges were public drunkenness and indecent exposure.

As part of the plea, this kid isn't allowed to enroll in any school until a hearing determines whether or not he is a threat, since what this kid really needs is free time. And is this even a punishment? Why not sentence him to 50 hours of community service at the local Charles Edward Cheeseman's Pizza Establishment (formerly Chuck E. Cheese™)?

All jokes aside, I won't tell you my opinions on this case since my opinions don't matter any more than yours. Well maybe more than your opinion because I can go without alcohol for more than 2 hours and hold a paying job*, but certainly no more than the general public.

However, as leading Constitutional Scholar on this blog I must say this case sets a dangerous precedent. This plea opens the door for a whole new generation of perfectly legal pre-pubescent assassins. You won't even have to pay them: just let 'em know that if they succeed they'll get a free vacation from school. Of course failure mandates seppuku, but that's a chance most 9-year-olds are willing to take.

Mark my words, child assassin training camps will soon be springing up all over the state. These so-called child-assins (wow that doesn't sound right) will carry out the wrath of vengeful citizens the world over. And our only defense will be the threat of brussels sprouts, homework and chores. FSM help us all...

* only one of these things is true

The Eyes Have It

2009-02-17T19:05:00.002-07:00

So today I started my ophthalmology rotation, and already I feel glad I didn't choose that as my profession. Don't get me wrong, I like their style. I've always been a fan of gratuitous h's, and their diagnostic equipment looks like a means of slowly murdering british secret agents. My problem is with the subject matter...eyes.

You'd probably think that Montgomery would love the eye, but that's because you're ignorant and likely drunk. Sure it sounds good: affirmative voters, scottish men and sailors all love it. But what your drunk ass doesn't realize is that you're actually thinking of "aye." Lay off the sauce, rummy! You've just been Intervention'd™ (premiering on MTV this fall).

Ophthalmologists actually study eye balls. Normally I'd love any subject which includes the word "balls," but the fact of the matter is that the eyes are the laziest part of the human body. It's like having a couple of union teamsters hanging out in your skull.

Think of all the break time they get! People probably blink an average of 10-15 times per minute, with each blink lasting maybe 300 milliseconds. Giving those lazy bastards the benefit of the doubt, that's 600 blinks an hour for a total of 3 minutes down time every hour. The kids who make my shoes work harder than that!

Ignoring the time you spend passed out in your own vomit, you probably sleep 8 hours a day. That means your eyes spend 8h48m doing god-knows-what in their cosy little sphenoid-cushioned palaces. Get a job!

Most people would probably say my brain is the laziest part of my body, but that's simply not true. I spend most of my days trying to light things on fire with my thoughts which is exhausting, and even when I'm sleeping it treats me to dreams about rowboat trips on Lake Pleasant with strange men who try to make love to me*.

So while I respect ophthalmologists, I do not respect their subject matter. Damn lazy eyeballs. There is one exception, however: Rastafarian eyeballs. They rule. And if you understand that reference, I simultaneously admire and pity you.

* real dream from last night. He didn't succeed.

Happy Super Bowls!

2009-02-01T10:26:00.001-07:00

Go Cardinals!

Creature of the Night

2009-01-27T14:13:00.002-07:00

I'm on a radiology rotation at the moment, and the radiologist I work with most often has a moderately thick accent. I've been trying to figure out where she's from - my guess was either Australia or France. Well today I learned that she's from Romania...and now I'm terrified.

"Why terrified?" you ask. Think about it: Vampires were created by Dracula; Dracula is from Transylvania; Transylvania is in Romania; ergo, all Romanians are vampires; double ergo, this radiologist is a vampire.

Still not convinced? Consider some facts.

1. A career in medicine would afford a vampire near-limitless access to fresh blood.

2. Radiology is the specialty best suited to the vampire lifestyle - they sit in a dark room all day. I've never even seen this doctor in the daylight! And there are no mirrors in the radiology reading room.

3. Nobody would think twice about a pale, gaunt radiologist. They'd be more suspicious about a tan, healthy looking radiologist.

4. She sub-specialized in pediatric radiology. Re-arrange the letters in "PEDIATRIC RADIOLOGIST" and what do you get? "I SIP TIDAL CAROTID GORE" She's not even trying to be subtle!

I know you may not believe me but if you were in my position you'd be scared, too. So from now on I'm bringing garlic, crosses, holy water and a gun loaded with silver bullets* to the hospital. Well, in larger quantities than usual.

* I'm pretty sure one of the x-ray technicians is a werewolf

Mystery License Plate Roundup

2009-01-21T17:05:00.002-07:00

Today on my drive home I saw several license plates which confused me. I can't figure them out, and without your help I'm pretty sure I'll dwell on them until my brain pops like a concord grape. Here we go!

BRN 4FR
No clues on the car - red sedan driven by an older version of John McCain. Here were my thoughts:
Born for fear - maybe the driver was a professional stalker/intimidator
Bran for farts - but why not just add the "t" on the end? You've got an extra letter.
Boron for fire - since boron is used to make pyrex
Burn forever - "BRN 4VR" was probably taken. Easily the coolest choice, and the one most likely to be used by yours truly. And Uri S. T'ruly, famed Israeli arsonist.
Brown for Freight Relocation - blatant UPS ad. How can I get in on that action?

TNDR 2 U
Again, no clues - blue sedan driven by young Erik Estrada.
Tender to you - mmm, that sounds sexy...
Tandoori to you - Indian food home delivery? Sign me up!
Tinder to you - stay away from the "Burn forever" guy
Tan Dr. to you - sun-worshipping physician who makes home visits?

MTHRFKR
Lifted pickup driven by a tattooed gentleman.
Moth Reef Killer - sounds like a very specialized exterminator
Math or Faker - cheating on the math portion of the SAT's will haunt you forever
Marth Roof Kraut - I also spent many years on the rooftops in Eichsfeld
Man, this one is tough...let's move on.

FAF 746
"Foreign Air Force?" "Fine Arts Festival?" "Citroen FAF?" I got nothing...

Question for any med student readers still out there
Who are you guys choosing to hood you at graduation? Family, friends or faculty?

The Audacity of Pope

2009-01-16T11:35:00.002-07:00

The Vatican recently released a list of sins so awful that only the pope can forgive you. Given that the pope is a former member of Hitler Youth, I'm just going to wish you good luck and walk away.

Most of the sins are related to the behavior of priests, but surprisingly none of them include the words "little boys" or "rectory." What is included, however, is "defiling the Eucharist." For those of you non-catholics, let me translate - "dropping a cracker." Hell must be easier to get into than Arizona State*.

Needless to say, I (like many other people) consider this list to be lacking. To be honest with you, I don't know what they were thinking. So for your reading pleasure, here are the "real" top 5 pope-forgiveness-exclusive sins:

Forgetting the color scheme of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Eating a Sloppy Joe
Attempting to assassinate Montgomery
Using the phrase "needless to say" or "to be honest with you"
Refusing to kill a zombie because they were previously a family member or friend. She's not your mother any more!

There we go, much better. To me, these things are way more unforgivable than ignoring the confidentiality of confession. Please. If priests can't discuss the crazy stuff people confess to, what will they talk about at their cocktail parties?

Montgomery out.

* this line blatantly modified/plagiarized from The Simpsons, season 10 episode 19

Long live the king

2009-01-14T17:25:00.002-07:00

Bad news, readers. On 13 January 2009, Patrick McGoohan passed away. I'll give you a moment...

If you're like me, you're probably saying, "Who?" I don't blame you; for me, and probably most of you, he came a little before our time. One of the roles you might know him for is King Edward Longshanks from Braveheart, the movie which probably triggered Mel Gibson's lifelong love of torture.

But he is also famous for creating some British show called Danger Man. Normally I don't care for any British television that doesn't begin with "Monty Python" or end with "Flying Circus," but this particular "programme" had the theme song "Secret Agent Man," which really is a monumentous contribution to society.

I first remember hearing this song when Ace Ventura portrayed his over the top caricature of a character called Jim Carrey way back in 1995 when I was [number redacted] years old. It was also played in Austin Powers and Bowfinger. And if you remember hearing it in Bruce Willis' album "The Return of Bruno," I pity you more than I've ever pitied anyone.

On to the crux of my discussion - I have issue with one line in the song. In the song, Johnny Rivers (or, shudder, Bruce Willis) sings:

There's a man who leads a life of danger
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger
With every move he makes another chance he takes
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow

Stop the music! There it was!

Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow? Are you serious? First off, how piss-poor was his training that he is more likely than not to die on any given day? Does he have some serious medical issues? Maybe he needs to see a doctor.

Second, let's take a look at the facts. To be a secret agent, you have to be what, at least 20-ish years old? How can you reach that age if you're 60% likely to die within a 24-hour period. Furthermore, he's got at most 2 missions in him before he reaches his "sell by" date - that's just not cost efficient for whatever government and/or corporation hired him. The Ways and Means Committee and/or accounting department would never let that happen.

No, the way I figure it, his odds of dying are at worst 4-to-1 against. Let's try it out:

There's a man who leads a life of danger
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger
With every move he makes another chance he takes
Odds are he's got an 80% chance to see tomorrow

Much better!

RIP
Patrick "Gooey" McGoohan
19 March 1928 – 13 January 2009

That's just insensitive

2009-01-13T16:30:00.006-07:00

From the Huffington Post. Governor Paterson (D-New York) is being criticized for not being more open about his decision-making process in selecting Hillary Clinton's (D-New York) replacement.

"The law is on his side as far as whether he has to do any this with transparency," said Barbara Bartoletti, legislative director of the League of Women Voters. "But good government is not on his side here."

Isn't it a little mean to criticize a blind guy for his actions not being transparent? How would he even know?

In related news, when did John Travolta become Governor of New York?

In related news, what the hell happened to John Travolta's face? Either he's playing a firefighter in his next movie or my second worst fear has come true and Hulk Hogan has become contagious...

Yikes.

THIS JUST IN: Michael Phelps caught it, too!

He's got...Hulkamania! I need 100cc of "Macho Man" Randy Savage, stat! Oooh, yeah!

Wow, that's too many close up man-faces in a row. Save us, Random Google Baby!

Much better.

Let's see: borderline offensive comment about political official - check; facial hair commentary - check; wrestling reference - check; baby face - check. I think my work here is done.

Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'

2009-01-06T15:14:00.002-07:00

I know I haven't written in a while, but check out all the cool stuff that's been going on in my life:

A new car!
Given that I still don't technically have a paying job (or any job for that matter) and 6 figures worth of student loan debt AND the mob has been threatening to break my knees after I posthumously bet against Whirlaway in the 1941 Kentucky Derby, I decided it would be fiscally responsible to buy a new car.

That's right, you're reading the incoherent rambling of the proud new owner of a 2008 Yellow Smart Fortwo. Once you stop laughing, read on.

Most of you reading this know me, so I doubt that you're surprised I bought the second weirdest car on the market (behind the Ford Taurus). Here are the answers to the most common questions I get while driving it: 44 mpg, 90 mph, gasoline, and 8 inches.

I call it the Bumblebee for 3 reasons: 1) it looks like one, 2) Transformers = awesome, 3) to mock people with allergies. That's the same reason I call Becca's car Peanut and our house Shellfish. Speaking of our house...

New Digs
Legal Counsel and I have migrated to a new domicile. Bah da ba ba ba, we're lovin' it.

Pros: gates around condo complex will keep both zombies and looters at bay; panic room
Cons: multiple doors, windows and sliding glass door easily broken by zombie horde

Don't worry, I'm already stockpiling firearms and non-perishable foods. So little time.

One Year Anniversary
That's right, it has been one year since Larkitect tied our knot. That came out wrong. Not the knot of Larkitect and I...yet. No, I'm referring to the Montgomery + Legal Counsel knot. One year of marital bliss. We celebrated by returning to our wedding site: the wonderful and mostly zombie free Walt Disney World.

Surprise highlight of the trip: cancelled return flight during our Memphis layover meant one extra day of vacation and an unplanned trip to Graceland. That's right, we visited the King's Castle, and it was everything I hoped for and more. It looked like the late-60s/early-70s exploded in there. I highly recommend visiting if you're ever stranded in Memphis. Otherwise...meh.

The End of Interview Season
All of my residency interviews have finished! The heat is off. Selling yourself to residency programs is not a fun process. 20-30 minute interviews do not give you enough time to really express who you are. Fortunately it's the perfect amount of time to point out awful neckties, criticize haircuts, and tell people how things are going to change once I've got the power. They'll see. They'll all see!

Anyway, it's time for me to get to work on my page for the med school senior yearbook. How can I simultaneously tell the world how hard I rock and warn them about zombies? Hmm... At the very least, I need to tell the world to keep on truckin'.

That's all for now. Keep on truckin', readers.

A Little Off the Top

2008-12-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

The world of medicine is a scary place. Vital decisions, life-altering treatments and missing tee time are all par for the course for doctors. Maybe not missing tee time; that's a little too far. But you get the idea.

Well after being fully engrossed in terror for about a year-and-a-half, I think I've finally discovered the Scariest Thing in Medicine™. FDR once proclaimed from atop a pile of vanquished foes that "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself." Well my friends, I have stared Fear Itself in its single unblinking eye and lived to tell the tale.

The scariest thing in medicine is...the neonatal circumcision.

During my last Family Medicine rotation I had the honor and privilege of acting as mohel to a young boy I'll simply call "Unfortunate Victim." Don't worry, everything went fine. But honestly, who would've have expected the parents to say "yes" when asked "is it okay if the student does it?" Regardless, I got to do the whole procedure from soup to nuts. Sorry, bad choice of words. Let's go with "start to finish" instead.

Despite being closely supervised, I was scared witless the entire time. Last time I checked I was a boy, so my empathy was in overdrive. Forget uncontrolled bleeding, drug reactions or even death - those things are over quick. The consequences of my actions would be seen by this kid every time he looks down for the rest of his life. Unless he decides to wear pants.

After all was said and done, and after my attending physician had time to stop me from weeping, I had time to reflect on what had happened. I had made myself an unremovable aspect of that child's life (maybe "irreplaceable" is a better term in this case); I'll never forget little What's-His-Name, and he'll have a constant reminder of me. Our lives have become intertwined - which I think means he gets half of my student loan debt, too. So get on that, would you kid?

But really, that's an awful lot of power. The same guy who's sitting here writing goofy jokes will have somebody's life in his hands in a few short hours. And then another person's. And then another person's. And then yours...muahaha!! Sorry, got carried away.

It's the kind of power that I've been told tends to corrupt. One need look no further than Dr. Evil for an example. We all know what happens when doctors become corrupted - plastic surgeons are born. I'm just kidding! They're pre-corrupted and become doctors later.

This experience has given me a new appreciation for responsibility doctors carry. We have to keep our patients' interests paramount and know what we're doing? Pretty tall order. I just hope I can live up to those expectations. And maybe, just maybe, I'll get the reward every doctor hopes for when a former patient recognizes me, signals toward his crotch, and says, "Nice work, doc."

Freud Rage

2008-11-26T14:36:00.002-07:00

As I alluded to in my last post, I'm a fan of psychiatry. It fascinates me to learn why I wake up every morning at 2:36am, drenched in sweat with images of Matt Damon in a giant diaper running through my head. I mean...why other people, who are not me, have that particular experience.

However, I have one big problem with the field that goes by the name of Sigmund Freud. Besides the fact that he owes me 12 bucks, I find him to be a bit loony. Which is unfortunate, seeing as how he is the face of psychiatry. Freud is to psychiatry as Ludovico Ariosto is to 16th century Italian poetry - you can't bring up the subject without conversation moving to that person.

But I'll let you judge for yourself. Here are some choice quotes from Kaplan & Sadock's Concise Textbook of Clinical Psychiatry, 2nd edition:

"Sigmund Freud originally believed that anxiety stemmed from a physiological buildup of libido"
"Freud viewed the phobia...to be the result of conflicts centered on an unresolved childhood oedipal situation"
"Freud theorized...that unconscious homosexual tendencies are defended against by denial and projection" - re: delusions
"[Freud] assumed there was a defensive retreat involved in the face of anxiety-provoking oedipal wishes" - re: OCD
"Sigmund Freud saw fire as a symbol of sexuality. He believed the warmth radiated by fires evokes the sensation that accompanies a state of sexual excitation, and a flame's shape and movements suggest a phallus in activity" - re: pyromania
Sigmund Freud believed that depression was the body's natural response to not actively interacting with a penis. He postulated that the cure for depression, regardless of gender, was to have a penis in hand.

See what I mean? Guy's crazy as a road lizard! Okay, so maybe I made the last one up. But I'm not entirely sure he would disagree. I can only assume he was projecting hs own feelings onto his patients, which would make him one horny, gay, mother-loving bastard. In which case, maybe he's not so bad after all.

Chicken Little, RN

2008-11-24T10:07:00.003-07:00

The inpatient psychiatric unit is a lot of fun. I enjoy the field, the doctors are often hilarious, and it is great fun to have conversations with the patients. The nurses...well, the nurses are another story.

Don't get me wrong - for the most part they are quite good. But some of them are so far removed from the world of "medicine" that they tend to lose touch with reality. It's hard to tell where the patients end and the nurses begin. Take this conversation, for instance:

Chicken Little, RN: Have you seen this guys blood pressure??? (points to vital signs which show a BP of 134/89)
Montgomery: Oh yeah, we saw that yesterday. We started him on hydrochlorothiazide.
Chicken Little, RN: If you don't start him on some blood pressure medicine he's going to stroke out while I'm taking care of him!
Montgomery: Um, right. We started him on hydrochlorothiazide yesterday.
Chicken Little, RN: That's not a blood pressure medication, that's a diuretic.
Montgomery: I gotta go... (little smoke cloud where I used to be standing)

That's almost word-for-word our conversation. Have you ever dealt with somebody so wrong on so many levels you don't even know where to start? For you non-medical folks, here's an equivalent conversation:

Chicken Little, RN: Have you seen this guys blood glucose??? (points to glucose slightly above normal)
Montgomery: Oh yeah, he's a type I diabetic. We re-started his insulin when he got here.
Chicken Little, RN: If you don't give him something that lowers his blood glucose he's going to explode into a cloud of sugar!
Montgomery: Um, right. We re-started his insulin when he got here.
Chicken Little, RN: That doesn't lower blood glucose, it's a synthetic hormone.
Montgomery: I gotta go... (tire tread marks on the ground where I used to be standing)

Or if you're even farther removed from medicine:

Some dude: (pointing at my car's near empty fuel gauge) Have you seen your fuel level???
Montgomery: (as I stand next to the gas actively pumping into my car) I'm putting gas in it as we speak.
Some dude: If you don't put fuel in that thing it's going to implode and form a black hole, killing everyone on Earth.
Montgomery: Um, right. I'm putting gas in it as we speak.
Some dude: That's not fuel, it's a petroleum-derived liquid consisting of hydrocarbons.
Montgomery: I gotta go... (escaping through a quickly dug tunnel at my feet)

Being a student is rough enough, what with the >40 hour work weeks for negative pay. But when you are right about something and people refuse to listen because you're "just a student," it becomes incredibly frustrating. On the plus side, the nurse had the same nasty-toned conversation with a resident who set her straight. Also, I sold her car to a chop-shop, ruined her credit rating, and filled her house with angry badgers. Revenge is a dish best served with angry badgers.

Life Update
10 for 10 on my residency applications. Ka-chow!

Lesson o' the Day

2008-11-18T22:34:00.002-07:00

One of the patients on my service* is a an exotic dancer. You know, the girlies what take their clothes off on stage fer the fellas. She's had several dancer friends visit her during her stay.

There's a reason strip clubs are kept so dark.

Lesson learned.

* but not actually my patient, and I know nothing else about her, so I think I'm allowed to discuss it

Hail to the Chief

2008-11-09T19:01:00.005-07:00

Well it's official: America has its first halfrican american president. Pretty cool, eh? To get you, my faithful readers, prepared for the next 4+ years, here's the rundown of our soon-to-be 44th president.

Barack Hussein Obama

Nickname(s): B-Rock, "The Alabama Slamma" (unknown origin)
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 347lbs (including fully robotic left leg)
Catchphrase(s): "...change...," "Who wants toast?," "I smell a rascal"
Hobbies: basketball, playing with children, murder
Kill count: 135
Weapon of choice: wakizashi
Firearm of choice: 1999 HK SL8
Finishing move: Redistribution of Health
Favorite Pastry: gougère
Favorite TV show: The Lone Gunmen
Favorite movie: Battleship Potemkin
Favorite Song: "Pretty Girls Everywhere" by Eugene Church and The Fellows
Favorite color: 473nm
Personal Hero: General Ambrose Everett Burnside
Greatest fear: dwarves
Superpower(s): shapeshifting
Weakness: pennies

All in all, not a bad choice. He's a pretty formidable opponent, even for Cristina Elizabeth Fernández de Kirchner (5'1", 115lbs, power of pyrokinesis, diamond-strength skin). Although McCain wasn't half bad either. Check it out.

John Hussein McCain

Nickname(s): Jack, Lord Feltingsworth, "The Thunder from Down Under" (unknown origin)
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 32lbs (body is completely hollow)
Catchphrase(s): "My friends" "McCain hungry" "I'm going to open an hermetically sealed container of processed assault & battery"
Hobbies: uprooting trees, not dying, murder
Kill count: 1,045
Weapon of choice: bamboo spear
Firearm of choice: 1982 Colt Python with custom extended barrel and scope
Finishing move: The POW
Favorite Pastry: eclair
Favorite TV show: Jackass
Favorite movie: 9 1/2 Weeks
Favorite Song: "100 miles and Runnin'" By NWA
Favorite color: taupe
Personal Hero: Warwick Davis
Greatest fear: the reaper
Superpower(s): invisibility, flight
Weakness: the sun

When you compare the two like that it kind of makes me wish things had been settled by steel cage death match. Like in 1852 when Franklin Pierce snapped the neck of Winfield Scott. Now that's democracy in action!

First down

2008-10-23T21:46:00.002-07:00

Whelp, I had my first residency interview today. All in all, I think it went pretty well. Not nearly as much bloodshed as I expected. Don't get me wrong, there was still a fair amount of bloodshed, but I managed to keep my dagger ("Rustin' Hoffman") sheathed for >60% of the interview. Personal best!

It's a strange experience. First off, I've never been recruited before. I've applied for things - med school, greencard, parole - but I've never had people pitching themselves to me. It's...weird. Not bad weird, just weird. Second, I'm never a big fan of selling myself. I find real bragging to be awkward. I can fake brag with the best of 'em. For example, did you know I both invented and cured polio? True story. But when confronted with a statement like, "Your board scores are really good - you must be pretty smart," the best I could muster was "your mom is!"

I also got to go to a dinner at the attending doc's house. I managed to conduct myself with dignity and class. Legal Counsel got wasted on a box of Franzia she snuck in her purse, then puked on the dog. We're like Goofus and Gallant: "Montgomery always says please and thank you. Legal Counsel stabbed another guest with a fondue fork, and is stealing your car while you read this."

It was a good time and I really like the program. Let's just hope the residency director has a good sense of humor about that whole "gypsy curse" thing...

You've come a long way, baby

2008-10-15T20:57:00.002-07:00

"Hey Montgomery, what were you doing today around lunchtime?"

Well since you asked, I'll tell ya. I was in the emergency department holding up a very friendly gentleman's right buttock whilst the colorectal surgeon drained his peri-rectal abscess. Breath deep friends, this is the good life. And best of all - I was paying to be there.

Medicine is a glamorous job. And it's moments like that which make me glad I didn't go with, oh I don't know, rock star or athletic sports athlete or professional gigolo. Although as gigolo I'd probably still see my share of man ass.

I couldn't help but think as pus floweth from yon abscess that pus, besides being disgusting, is actually a nice color. It's a very soothing creamy-beige color which wouldn't be a terrible color for a wall or pair of pants or mid-size family sedan. While we're at it, let's get Home Depot to color to color-match perioral cyanosis, scleral icterus, and placenta. I'm the best interior designer ever!

I had Boston Market for lunch.

All kidding aside, I love where my life has gone. Medicine is fun; family medicine most of all.

9/0/1

Out-of-Context Book Quote Time!

2008-10-04T16:52:00.002-07:00

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Scholastic Publishing, July 2003.
Page 242, line 8.

"Ron ejaculated loudly."

I know I'm the last person on Earth to read the Harry Potter series, but I can't just read something like that and not share.

On an unrelated note...
I just bought Nightmare Revisited on iTunes. It's an album of artists from various genres covering the soundtrack to The Nightmare Before Christmas. It's really good, provided you like the original songs.

9/0/1

Yes, that is disgusting

2008-10-02T18:23:00.002-07:00

There are a lot of gross things in the world of medicine. Phlegm, abscesses, old people, vomit, D-Rock, and ear wax just to name a few. But I think I've finally discovered the most repulsive aspect of medicine. So repulsive that I need two wavers. First, before you start hating me for sharing this realize that it's so gross that I'm obligated to share. Second, it's also so gross that it must be true.

Clostridium difficile is a severe intestinal infection which often arises after the normal colonic bacteria is ruined by antibiotics. Think of it this way - if the population of France was killed, all of the houses and businesses would soon be populated by opportunistic centaurs. The citizens of France being the normal colonic flora, centaurs being C. difficile, and France being one giant rectum. Great analogy, or greatest analogy?

The typical treatment is, well, more antibiotics. Better antibiotics. With blackjack, and hookers. In fact, forget the antibiotics. But what if these antibiotics don't work, or the patient is allergic? How is a doctor to restore the normal population of poop town? Obviously you do it by force...with a fecal transplant.

I'll give you a minute to let that sink in...

Technically it's called "fecal bacteriotherapy," and it "involves infusion of bacterial flora acquired from the feces of a healthy donor in an attempt to reverse bacterial imbalance responsible for the recurring nature of the infection."* I'm going to vomit.

The mind reals with questions. Who's the donor? How do they collect it? Can you get paid to donate like you do with platelets? (If so, I'm in. I donate like 5 or 6 times a day) How do they actually perform the transplant? Who does it? How do you break this one to the patient?

Dr. Doctor: Well, Mr. Smith, I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is, the antibiotics aren't working. The good news is, we can cure your pseudomembranous colitis. By packing you to the brim with another man's poop.
Mr. Smith: Jackpot!

Mr. Smith is kinda creepy.

Anyway, if you've found anything worse than that, feel free to share. Or don't. Maybe don't is a better option.

9/0/1

*Wikipedia

Quest for the Holy Grail

2008-09-23T07:07:00.002-07:00

The Wendy's Frosty® is a modern ambrosia. Quite possibly the greatest food, nay item, ever created. To me it tastes the way I imagine blood to taste for a vampire, brains for a zombie, or Vietnamese human livers for John McCain. If the human race had to prove why it should be spared from an hostile alien race, the accomplishments we would show off to prove our worth would be: The Sistine Chapel, the polio vaccine, Appetite for Desruction by Guns N' Roses, the iPhone, and the Frosty®.

Unfortunately, the ingredients to anything that delicious must remain a closely guarded secret. To quote Cecil from Mr Deeds, "I tried to make my own at home, but it wasn't the same." I think the quest for the Frosty® recipe is as old as the quest to turn lead into gold. And because I've never been terribly good at alchemy, my attempts have been unsuccessful. My first try tasted like a bad chocolate milkshake, my second melted the blender, and the third turned my skin inside-out for a week.

But after much research and experimentation, I think I've found it. Like a modern day Nicholas Flamel, I have made a discovery which may change the world. Y'all ready for this?

2 cups Vanilla Iced Cream
1/2 cup Cow Milk (or human, if you're out of cow)
1/4 cup Chocolate Milk Mix
1 egg, just the white (eat the yolk raw, separate from the Frosty®)

Don't get me wrong, it's not an exact replica. It's a little thinner than a Frosty®, so you may want to add some cow hooves. But it's pretty damn close. I think I shall call it the Fauxsty®. Not to be confused with the Faux Sty, which is gross and has a very limited market.

Eat well, my faithful readers. Soon I shall discover the secret of the Taco Bell bean burrito. I just need to find the proper ratio of chihuahua blood to crack cocaine...

Habla usted Klingon?

2008-09-18T08:21:00.002-07:00

In the County Hospital Pediatric Emergency Department™, roughly 75% of the patients are spanish speaking only. Which is fine, except for the fact that my spanish is quite limited. And you can probably tell from my writing that my English ain't so hot neither. I can conduct a basic medical interview, and figure out enough to come up with a diagnosis, but beyond that my knowledge is limited to: "No tengo los pantalones," "¿Dónde está el boticario más cercano?," and "Pensaba que ella tenía dieciocho."

As a fallback plan, I have two resources: interpreters and online translation software. Interpreters are great, but using one is a little odd. They'll talk to the patient for a full five minutes, then turn to you and say "She said no." Also, I'm pretty sure I heard the interpreter say "Este estudiante de medicina tiene un grande culo y huele mal" right in the middle of their conversation. I don't know what it means, but I don't like it! And most of the interpreters have been doing this long enough that they do most of history on their own, leaving me to scribe what I hear.

Online translators, on the other hand, are a little sketchy. I use them for discharge information (that's "discharge" as in "leaving the hospital," not "discharge" as in "from my pene"), but I find that things get lost in translation. For example, "Followup with your doctor in 2-3 days" became "el seguimiento de forma adjetivo con su pediatra en 2-3 días." Using my keen deductive reasoning, I decided that didn't look right. Translating in back yielded, "Tracking adjective form with your pediatrician in 2-3 days." Close but no cigarro.

That little experience did remind me of one of my favorite hobbies during my halcyon days of youth (boredom in high school): the double translate. Take a block of text, translate into a different language, then back again. Hilarity doth ensue. I know I'm lame, but at least I wasn't cookin' up meth in the garage! Here's an example - Christopher Walken's memorable speech from Pulp Fiction:

The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any slopes gonna put their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright, so he hid it, in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

Becomes

The manner in which his father looked at it, this watch was his birth. There were be damned if any clues that will put their hands greasy yellow at its birth of the boy, so he hid in the only place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, carrying the clock until his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, give me the watch to you.

Good times. And that's exactly how I imagine myself sounding to the patients: "Are you to be having problems to eat?"

8/0/2

Mistaken Identity

2008-09-16T07:31:00.002-07:00

So there I was, skulking around the bowels of the hospital looking for morning report. As I walk down a particularly ominous looking hallway, what to my wandering eyes should appear but an attending physician staring intently into a file. He looks up at me, makes eye contact, smiles, and says, "Hello, Cara."

Naturally I turn around to see if I was being followed: empty hallway. I turn back in time to see him buried in his file again as he walks past me. This confuses me for several reasons.

I've never met this doctor before.
My name isn't Cara.
I believed, up until this encounter, that I looked nothing like a female

Well now I'm worried. There are several explanations for this encounter, and none of them are good. The first and most likely explanation is that the hospital is haunted, and the doc was talking to a ghost. I know what you're thinking: "But Montgomery, there's no way a ghost would show up in a brightly lit hallway. They prefer the dark." That was my initial though, too. But it is a big hospital, so I'm sure thousands of people have likely met their unfortunate end there. So statistically some of their ghosts should be ballsy enough to show up in the light.

The second option, and I hate to even suggest it, is that the doctor was schizophrenic. Or worse yet, a schizophrenic patient who stole a doctor's white coat and badge. Or worst of all, a psychopath snuck into the hospital, ate the doctor, put on his clothes, and called me Cara to confuse me long enough to make his getaway. And now he's roaming around the city making "house calls" - eating unsuspecting agoraphobics, like some kind of humanized land-shark! God help us...

I've been known to sleep walk from time to time (every night), which brings me to option the third: I've taken on the nocturnal personality of Cara, the Welsh respiratory therapist. I may be dressing up in women's clothing, makeup and wigs and wandering around the hospital in a somnolent daze giving out unlicensed breathing treatments. Of course my gentle features and kind demeanor have made me quite popular among graveyard-shifters. I only hope I haven't let any of the doctors go too far with me.

The last option is that I misheard the physician. But that's ridiculous. Almost too absurd to even mention.

7/0/3

Madness takes its toll

2008-09-14T21:12:00.003-07:00

Cindy McCain is filthy, stinking rich. Montgomery, on the other hand, is only described by two of those adjectives. But despite her money, I still think she's riff raff. No, not "riff raff" as in "the common people." I mean Riff Raff from The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Seriously, I think of him every time I see her. Prepare the transit beam!

I really need to see that in a theatre...

Burn before eating

2008-09-13T12:33:00.003-07:00

I'm currently rotating through the county hospital...like a tornado or washing machine. Despite the images that "county hospital" typically conjures, it's not so bad. The attending physicians are great, the facilities are only moderately dilapidated and the IV medications only rarely cause vampirism. Overall, I like the place.

Unfortunately, it is not known as a bastion of gourmet cuisine. As an example, I got a chicken salad the other day and the "chicken" was a chunky grey paste. Literally. I'm fairly certain you'd have to run a chicken through a jet turbine to get that consistency of poultry. Either that or trick the poor bird into opening the Ark of the Covenant.

On the plus side, the food's free. Yessir, I get up to $18 worth of free grub down in the basement...by the morgue and pathology lab. Hmmm, never made that connection before. Yikes. Why eighteen dollars? Because $19 would bankrupt the hospital and people would starve on $17. At least that's what they told me when I asked.

There is one shining point during my culinary workweek. Thursday - for thursdays are Mexican food day. Their Mexican food is actual honest-to-god, restaurant quality food. So tasty. It's like I'm eating Felipe Calderón's juicy innards. And to top it off, I've been making my own lunchtime margaritas. (here's my secret: lots of tequila)

They also have fresh fruit, so I've been eating multiple apples every day I'm there. I love apples. I love them. I'd marry an apple if I wasn't already married to Legal Counsel. And even still, I'm considering moving to Colorado City so I can marry a whole bushel. It would be the most delicious honeymoon ever.

Ummm...I can't really think of anything else to say about the food.

The Tally: 6/0/4

Family Matters

2008-09-09T08:08:00.002-07:00

This weekend I had the pleasure of going to Florence, AZ with Legal Counsel for her/our nephews' birthday party. For those of you not from here, Florence AZ is a lot like Florence Italy, except instead of world famous art it has a prison, and instead of beautiful architecture it has another prison, and instead of being the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance it has a couple more prisons.

The birthday party was fun, we got to play games and go to a water park. And I gave the kids my usual birthday gift: a heavy dose of reality in the form of my educational pamphlet "Why the Government is Trying to Bring You Down, or how I Can Stop Worrying and Learn to Embrace Montgomery's Anarcho-Syndicalist Ideology." The kids love it. Plus, I'm slowly building my unholy army of the night. So I got that going for me, which is nice.

The highlight of the evening for me was a conversation with Legal Counsel's stepdad. To assist your imagination, he's a jewish guy with a greying Tom Selleck 'stache.

Stacheman: (in the middle of a story about his days as a paramedic) It was welfare check day, so all the indians were drunk...
Montgomery: Whoa! Racist much?
Stacheman: What? The mexicans were drunk, too.
Legal Counsel: That doesn't make it any less racist!
Montgomery: I'm pretty sure it makes it more racist.

True story.

That's two conversation-based posts in a row. Probably trying to remember what it's like to talk to people, because in the Peds ED, most of my conversations go like this:

Montgomery: You're a cute kid, what's your name?
Cute Kid: WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
Montgomery:Okay...well mom, what brings you in?
Cute Kid's Mom: WHAAAA!!!!
Montgomery: WAAASSSSSUUUUUPPP!!!!!

On the plus side, I get to practice my wailing. And on my weekends off, I practice my whaling. To the Pequod!

The score: 3/0/7

Knisper! Knasper! Knusper!

2008-09-04T20:24:00.004-07:00

Completely out-of-the-blue conversation with my Peds ED attending, with absolutely no context:

Dr. Attending: Did you know they're coming out with a new kind of Rice Krispies™?
Montgomery: You mean Choconilla? It's pretty good.
Dr. Attending: No, this new one is mixed with prunes.
Montgomery: Really? Sounds gross. Is it for old people?
Dr. Attending: Snap, crackle, poop, Rice Krispies™!

I think spending his days around crying kids is starting to take its toll.

The Tally
Interviews: 2
Rejections: 0
Pending: 8

That guy from Monty Python?

2008-09-03T19:30:00.002-07:00

I'm an equal opportunity hater. I think I was hatin' on Obama recently (although I'm too lazy to look back and check), so it's time to turn my ire on the republicans. I'm going to give them a repub-lickin'! Anyone...? Laughter...?

People have lots of criticisms of Sarah Palin - just a pretty face, too young, no experience, picked just because she's from an under-represented group. But I can't use any of those because they're equally valid for Obama! No no no, my criticism is much more valid. More critical. More important to voters: her childrens' names. Let's take a look!!

Track - Not a real name. Also, the high school sport that most often led to me crying in the middle of my peers.

Bristol - Not a real name. Also, my least favorite ceremonial county in southern England. Well, except for Wiltshire. Damn you Wiltshire, and your Great Bustard breeding program!

Willow - A tree. And a witch. And a kickass movie by Ron Howard!!! I'm actually okay with this one.

Piper - The most useless member of the continental army.

Trig - a) not a real name b) everybody's least favorite subject c) the kid has a chromosomal trisomy, and you chose a name that draws attention to that fact. Poor taste.

One for five. That may be good enough for an Arizona sports team, but not for a vice president. Actually, that would probably be pretty good for a politician. Potatoe!

Life Update
I got my first invitation for a residency interview today. w00t!

Wackadoodle

2008-08-29T11:32:00.003-07:00

Well that was fun...not! Hehe, never gets old.

I'm officially done with the USMLE Step 2 CK, or as I like to call it - Step Up 2: The Streets. It was brutal. The questions weren't so bad, but it is miserable to sit in front of a computer, reading paragraph-long questions and answering them for 7.5 straight hours. It combines my two least favorite activities: reading and thinking.

For those of you who have never has to indulge such standardized torture, be thankful. The best analogy I can come up with is this: imagine sitting at a computer for 7+ hours answering questions. Okay, so I'm not very good at analogies. On the plus side, I got some first hand learning about pressure ulcers. Who wants to change the dressing?

I was able to focus for most of the exam, but I started getting pretty flighty towards the end. Instead of actually reading the questions in the last blocks, I would just stare at the pretty arrangement of letters and make up my own questions. I'm worried about one question, though. It asked who Ziggy Stardust's bandmates were. "Weird & Gilly" were not options, so I went with "Spiders from Mars." I hope that's right.

If you're wondering what CK stands for, it's "Calvin Klein" because he wrote the test. The next big test is the Step 2 CS, which stands for "Counter Strike" because soon we shall have our revengeance!

And for any medical students reading this who haven't taken the CK yet, let me just say this: suckers! Have fun with that, jerkbags!

News Update
In case you hadn't heard, John McCain picked Tina Fey's older sister as his running mate. Bold move...

Case Presentation

2008-08-27T07:55:00.004-07:00

In honor of my USMLE Step 2 CK exam tomorrow, I thought I'd do a quick case presentation.

A 27-year old man is brought to the emergency department 1 hour after a boating accident. The man was climbing the mast to untagle his sail when he fell off, striking the edge of the boat before falling in the water. He says he feels "okay" now, although he describes mild right-sided chest "discomfort" when breathing in. Vital signs are stable. Exam reveals a tall, lean man in no apparent distress. There are bruises over his chest on the right. Auscultation reveals decreased breath sounds and hyperresonance on the right. Chest x-ray shows:

What is the diagnosis? (the answer is in the black box below)

Nemothorax

Ebony and Ivory

2008-08-26T07:32:00.002-07:00

Paraphrased conversation between Legal Counsel and myself:

Legal Counsel: Everybody says that Barack Obama might be the first black president, but really he's only half black. They just ignore the white half. Why don't they say he'll be our 44th white president - he's just as much white as he is black.
Montgomery: I wonder which half is his white half. I hope it's not in the trousers area.

As usual, Legal Counsel makes and interesting point and I say something ridiculous and borderline offensive. But it raises an interesting question: if I was half black, what pieces would I want of each race? So I got lost in thought for the next several hours about disease prevalence and races. I call it lost in thought, Legal Counsel calls it catatonic.

Here's the breakdown of how I would design my half-black/half-white self (the parantheses describe the disease more prevalent in the other race:

Black Pieces
Pancreas (Type I Diabetes)
All skin except palms and soles (most melanoma)
Intestines (IBD)
Chloride ion channels (cystic fibrosis)
HFE gene (hemochromatosis)
ATP7B protein (Wilson's Disease)
Liver (autoimmune hepatitis)
Thyroid (hypothyroidism)
Brain (glioblastoma multiforme)

White Pieces
Palm and sole skin (acrolentiginous melanoma)
Insulin receptors (Type II diabetes)
Bone marrow (sickle cell disease)
Heart (HOCM, ischemic heart disease)
Stomach, esophagus (gastric, esophageal cancer)
Eyes (glaucoma)
Kidney (chronic kidney disease)
Lungs (asthma)
Prostate (prostate cancer)

As you can see, it's a fairly even split. But biracial Montgomery would be protected from so many diseases! Excellent. Now I just need to figure out how to do genetic modification and I'm set! Also I want x-ray vision and the power to turn invisible. Sweet...

Down with Obama...question mark?

2008-08-25T14:22:00.003-07:00

I found this on a "conservative" t-shirt website:I really don't know what it means. I just know it makes me want to vote for B-Rock.

It was categorized under the "Anti Obama shirts" section, but I can't figure out what it's supposed to mean. Are conservatives against Disneyland and/or Mickey Mouse? If so, damn them. Damn them to the hell they love talking about. I thought Mickey Mouse was a symbol of America.

Here are the results of a Montgomery Road exclusive international poll - 100 foreigners surveyed, top 5 answers on the board - "Name something that stands for America":

Uncle Sam - 45
Mickey Mouse - 25
Mr T - 13
James Woods - 6
Abe Vigoda - 3

Conservatives should love Disney/Mickey Mouse/Disneyland. Think about! Idolatry, capitalism, churros - what wouldn't they love? Well...maybe not the churros. Immigrant food, you know.

Maybe I'm wrong and those aren't the Mickey ears I so know and love. Maybe that's just my Rorschachian interpretation. But what else could it be? Bad hair cut? Record-setting bilateral seborrheic keratoses*? Simultaneous discus injuries?

I've got it! Barack Obama is an alien cyborg sent to Earth to collect data and transmit it back to his home-planet of Omicron Persei 8 using his readily-concealed scalp satellites! Of course! It's so obvious...why didn't I figure it out sooner? His early life is so convoluted and jumbled, it sounds like he just made it up on the spot. And compare this picture of Obama (upper) with a picture of an alien attacking Washington DC last year (lower):
It's uncanny!

Thank you, ThoseShirts.com, for revealing this sinister alien plot. Readers, vote for John McCain! He's just a zombie. And I'd rather have an American zombie than an alien cyborg.

* jibbly

What was I thinking?

2008-08-22T07:25:00.002-07:00

Even during the dark times when I wasn't blogging, I was still keeping track of potential topics about which to write. The only problem is, I would usually write a brief snippet with no explanation. Then I'd come back and it would be completely out of context and I'd have no idea what the hell I was trying to say. It's like Seinfeld Season 2, Episode 13 (The Heart Attack) - Jerry writes a joke late at night and can't remember it or read it in the morning. "'Fax me some halibut.' Is that funny? Is that a joke?"

So today I thought I'd review some ideas that have been lost to the ages.

Detour - Wile E Coyote
Not sure what was going on here. I do love Wile E Coyote - he has both the inventiveness and bloodlust that make America great. And he would frequently send the Roadrunner on detours to try to catch him, which instilled in me at a young age a deep-rooted distrust of detours. But I really don't know how I was going to make that into a full post.

Batman: favorite non-marvel, non-constantine, non-hellboy, non-X, non-Y superhero
This may have been written around the time that the hype for The Dark Knight started ramping up. I think I was going to call Batman my favorite superhero, but with a bunch of qualifiers that imply he's my 11th or 12th favorite, so as to make it ridiculous. But come on! There's no way Constantine is better! And don't even get me started on X and Y!

Jokeback Mountain
Possible idea for a one-liner based on Heath Ledger's roles in Brokeback Mountain and The Dark Knight. Probably would be in bad taste now. Don't get me wrong, I'd still make a joke in bad taste. I just can't remember it.

Bankruptcy - horse saddle, toy tractors, wedding rings, guns, non-running cars
I may have been coked out of my mind when I wrote this one. It reminds me of Chris Farley in Black Sheep:

Hi there, this is Mike Donnelly. I work over here at the recreational center. To be honest with you I pretty much run the place ha, ha, ha. Is this ah Pat Gyles? Good, Good. Hey, hope everything's going great in your fine town of er Avery? Edward! Ha, ha, ha. Say, the reason I'm calling is I wanted to tell you a little bit about the candidacy of Al Donnelly. Al Donnelly's a guy with a dream. His dream is to become governor of this great state of Washington. Hell, every guy's got his dream, am I right? Between you, me and the wall here, I doozy myself last night. Ha ha, ha, ha. Get this: A corn-fed harvest mouse, a hooker, a nun, a Flemish peasant woman, whips, chains, whistles yo-yo's, a circus midget. My grandmother riding by on a bicycle give me the finger, and a duck! Now, I don't know ha, ha, ha. Are you crying? Oh my lord. I am sorry honey, please don't ! Could you get your daddy on the phone. No, don't hang up please I...

Hypothetics - French Wine Snob
First off, "hypothetics" isn't a word. Although it does sound like a new exercise for really lazy people. Second, there's nothing hypothetical about a French Wine Snob. They're real! I've seen one...and smelled others.

Shamrock shake - another reason to hate canada
As though I need another reason to hate Canada. Every year around St. Patrick's day I go hunting at nearby McDonald's restaurants for the elusive and delicious Shamrock Shake. Unfortunately every year I come up empty-handed. And by empty-handed I mean both my hands full of Big Macs, chicken strips, large fries and a coke. But no Shamrock Shake! Well this year my research revealed that McDonald's now only releases this ambrosia in Canada. Stinky, socialist Canada. So basically I think I was going to propose that we invade and take over Canada. And that we try Uncle O'Grimacey for treason.

So not all of my ideas are winners. And half of them aren't even memorable. On the plus side, while searching for the hastily scribbled txt files that are the basis of this post, I happened upon a stash of legitimately mediocre ideas that you might see in the future. Yay!

Listserved!

2008-08-21T07:24:00.002-07:00

The College of Medicine listserv is a very...contentious place. It's the email equivalent of the Russia-Georgia border. Most of the time it's used for selling garbage, offering rooms for rent, medical news, and advertising high-class prostitutes. But every once in a while it erupts into an orgy of carnage and violence, by which I mean passive-aggressive debate. My personal past favorites include "I think all other students should shut their god-damn mouths and not ask questions during class" and "I'm sending this useless email to the listserv to tell y'all to stop sending useless emails to the listserv."

Well the theme of this week's debacle is bigotry. Some student sent an email announcing the California Supreme Court's decision that doctors can't deny care to homosexuals because of religious beliefs. It's a decision with which I personally agree. You can use religion to justify a lot of things - war, murder, hate - but violation of civil rights crosses the line! Plus, it opens up a whole slew of scary possibilities where doctors refuse care. Irregardless* of anybody's beliefs, it's a news story which is appropriate for a medical listserv.

Well some douchebag, who must be the King of Tools, disagreed. With a vengeance. He referred to the Gay-Straight Medical Student Alliance, of which I am former treasurer thank you, as a "support group." I'm getting the rage rigors just thinking about it. He also said that the list serve is not the place for "proselyting [sic] of ideas." I'm being honest when I say it was just the article, and no soap-boxing was going on.

And if that wasn't enough, this guy's BFF (I assume the Prince of Tools) decided to chime in with this little gem:

However there is a difference between a person and a practice. Just because I treat you respectfully doesn’t mean that I have to adjust my set of values so that I don’t offend you, nor should I have to join your church to be your friend.
Even though I do not agree with the practice of homosexuality...

You can see where this is going. Those are his underlines, by the way.My first reaction was disappointment that the UA actually admitted these students. The only student I knew of with this kind of prejudice was Bees, until now.

So after these two shining stars put in their two dinar, the whole listserv exploded. I've come up with three possible responses, but didn't send any because I'm not the kind of a-hole who argues over the internet. I'm a different kind of a-hole.

Option the first: Pulling Rank
"I know you guys haven't been here as long as I have, so I can't expect you to know as much as me. Having said that, let me just bring you up to speed on something: bitching about the listserv is the exclusive territory of 4th year students. In your first 3 years you should be too busy for this nonsense, and by 4th year you've earned the right to complain. Also, we 4th years are very bored and need some way to kill time. Thank you."

Option the second: Put my thing down flip it and reverse it
"I have to agree with the prince of tools, with a caveat: I don't agree with the practice of heterosexuality. I find it personally objectionable and offensive to my beliefs. I have many friends who are heterosexual, even though I find their lifestyle choices repugnant and believe they are going to hell. I personally practiced heterosexuality throughout most of high school and college, and I just ended up with chafing and a repetitive stress injury in my wrist. Of course, I was practicing alone. So that shows you where that road will take you. Please refrain from sending any emails which contain both the words 'penis' and 'vagina.' Thank you."

Option the third: Reductio ad Absurdum
"This article should never have been sent to the listserv. It is wrong for the Supreme Court to tell us how to run our medical practice, and I don't like having views shoved in my face. I personally don't approve of people who choose to be midgets, and don't plan to treat them when I'm a practicing physician. But there is a difference between a person and a practice. I don't agree with the practice of midgetry, but I can treat them with respect even if I'm secretly picturing them in hell. A tiny, tiny hell. Thank you."

Give me a break. Here's the bottom line: the email was totally appropriate because it pertains to medicine and law/ethics**, and is relevant. And those two guys are close-minded, hateful bigots who are likely to be eaten by a grue. Case closed.

Now that's prostheletyzing!

* I know it's not a word
** that's the first time "law" and "ethics" have appeared in the same sentence

Life updates

2008-08-19T09:02:00.003-07:00

A couple of things unrelated to my post earlier this morning:

My new phone number
I got a new phone, and with it a new number. The phone is a BlackBerry...I feel like an adult! Rather than broadcast my phone number (and none of you jerks better do it, either), just follow these simple directions:

New area code is 602
Subtract 3 from the first number
Add 8 to the second
Third is the same
Subtract 4 from the fourth
Subtract six from the fifth
Subtract one from the sixth
Subtract 8 from the seventh

A lot of work for a phone that never gets calls, but you've got the info.

My medical specialty
I've chosen Family Medicine. Might blog about my reasons, might not.

With no power comes great responsibility

2008-08-19T08:27:00.002-07:00

Here's a brief summary of medical school clinical rotations: you get thrown into a hospital where you have no real privileges, and pretty much everything you do has to be approved/co-signed by a resident or attending. Seriously, you can't even sneeze without some crazy doctor popping up and asking if your resident said it was okay to sneeze.

And I'm okay with that. It's all part of climbing the medical school ladder, the top of which leads you to the bottom of the residency ladder, the top of which leads you to the bottom of the attending ladder, etc. The problem is, we students look like doctors - we wear white coats*, we carry stethoscopes, we wear assless chaps. As such, I've grown accustomed to saying such phrases as "Sorry, I'm not a doctor," "I would do it if I could, but let me go get a resident to write a real order," and "Why are you touching me there - that's my special area."

And again, I'm okay with a little confusion. The problem is that when you're rocking the white coat, you're expected to act like a doctor. That means: no swearing**, no firing my pistols wildly into the air, no sniffing babies for that New Baby Smell™ without parental approval, and certainly no smoking meth on the job**.

But here's the real dilemma and the crux of this post: what's a student to do when leaving the hospital bathroom? When you're wandering around the hospital with enuresis and encopresis, trips to the bathroom are many. And let me tell you, these bathrooms are not the cleanest of places. Oftentimes it will look like somebody stuck a firecracker in a Snickers and ran off giggling. Alternatively, that person was trying to fill water balloons with yellow food-coloring and didn't care much for accuracy.

Then your humble narrator walks into this train-wreck of sanitation and is left with two options. Option the first, leave the bathroom and have the person who is invariably waiting right outside go in after and think that my pelvis exploded. Option the second, and I'm gagging just to mention it, clean it up. Oh gad, I need to vomit...

I'm back. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind cleaning bathrooms. I clean my own bathroom***, but when I do I'm wearing a Hazmat suit. And I'm not cleaning up a strangers lemonade for no pay. I'm already paying tens of thousands in tuition to work 80+ hours a week for no compensation - I draw the line at a forced janitorial clerkship.

So basically, there is probably a legion of nurses in the Phoenix area who think I have the worst aim in the world. But what should I do? I guess the only solution is a Foley catheter and leg bag. Then I'll never have to go to the bathroom. Brilliant!

* please don't get me started on the short coat/long coat debacle. Nurses don't know that rule, and the only people who care are extremely insecure doctors.
** totally not true for attendings, but true for everyone else
*** no I don't

We can stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning, I'm making waffles!

2008-08-18T06:51:00.003-07:00

In case I didn't make it abundantly clear, last Friday was my burfday. To celebrate such a momentous event, I decided I wanted to go somewhere fancy for lunch. A rare treat typically reserved for special occasions. So I swooped up Legal Counsel from work and we headed to Lo-Lo's Chicken and Waffles.

In case you don't know what words mean, chicken and waffles is a dish which consists of chicken and waffles. For the sake of clarity: the waffle is a traditional breakfast waffle with syrup, while the chicken is fried. According to Wikipedia and most other sources I've found, this tradition began with Southern African-Americans, either during the days of slavery when they'd make due with what little they got or immediately after slavery when they'd make due with what little they got. You know, those guys had it pretty rough. Why don't they teach us about that in school?

Let me begin this paragraph by saying that I'm not racist, and I don't intend to say anything that can be construed as racist or offensive. Having said that, let me just state a couple facts. First, rates of heart disease and type 2 diabetes are higher in African-American communities. Second, African-Americans invented chicken and waffles. I know correlation doesn't equal causation, but come on!

If you ever have a chance to go to Lo-Lo's, I highly recommend you take it. Let me break down the elements of my meal:

Two fried chicken drumsticks. Absolutely dripping in grease, saturated fats and cholesterol. Translation: delicious. It the taste I imagine you'd get if you killed and cooked Jesus H Chicken. He was betrayed by Judas Chicken, tried by Pontius Poultry, and finally crucifried.
One waffle with syrup. It was served with a heaping helping of butter but I'm not sure why: I'm pretty sure the waffle was just butter sculpted into waffle shape and lightly toasted. Probably the best waffle I've ever tasted. John Kerry would approve.
A mason jar full of Kool-Aid. I said it was probably the best waffle I'd ever tasted, but in this case there is no doubt. This is the best Kool-Aid in the world. I felt Legal Counsel and I were devouring the Kool-Aid Man's twin babies. His delicious twin babies. It's the kind of satisfaction I imagine a starving vampire feels after finally catching its victim.

Basically, Lo-Lo's Chicken and Waffles is amazingly good and I'm sad it took me this long to find it.
Pros: Delicious food, low prices, friendly atmosphere.
Cons: I'm pretty sure one meal there took 16 months off my life.
I give it 4.5/5 gastric bands.

Very Merry Unbirthday

2008-08-15T09:03:00.003-07:00

Oh wait, it's my actual birthday! Happy birthday to me! It's not proper for a lady to reveal her age, but I will say the following: I can now rent cars, and my car insurance should go down. That is, if I actually paid car insurance.

I decided to read up on birthdays on Wikipedia, that oh-so-credible source of information. It says that birthdays first originated with the "non-Christian cult of Mithras" and was subsequently spread by Roman soldiers. I gotta be honest with you - that's pretty bad-ass.

Of course, not everybody celebrates birthdays. Jehovah's Witnesses, for example, view them as pagan and therefore non-Christian. So in addition to providing countless medical ethics questions regarding blood transfusions, Jehovah's Witnesses are kindof downers.

And Jewish folks, such as my lovely wife's family, celebrate the Bar Mitzvah when a boy turns 13 or Bat Mitzvah when a girl turns 12 (like my friend Ear Loeb). FYI, bar/bat mitzvah translates as "gifts for an awkward adolescent and adults getting plastered" in Hebrew. Since I'm somewhere between male and female, as outlined yesterday, I should celebrate today since it's the sum of the two! Who's going to bring the challah? "Baruch atah Adonai Elohenu..."

Well anyway, I do celebrate burfdays. And I'm going to party like it's my burfday...by studying. But I better get a cake! So help me if I don't get a cake. Our tradition here in the states is to eat cake and sing the exteremely depressing "Happy Birthday to You" song. It sounds like a funeral dirge, I swear. At one point I tried to start a movement to replace the birthday song with "Tom Sawyer" by Rush, but it never caught on. Too many lyrics, I s'pose.

Before I get out of here, let me just put in my endorsement for a few other birthday traditions to be adopted in our society, especially for my birthday.

In medieval England, small tokens such as gold coins were baked into birthday cakes. So I better see some damn gold in my cake!
From Wikipedia: "In Uruguay*, party guests touch the birthday person's shoulder or head following the singing of Happy Birthday to You." So gather round to touch my head, bitches.
Piñatas. Piñatas f***ing rock.

Get on that, would ya?

* funniest country name ever.

Macho, macho man

2008-08-14T14:08:00.002-07:00

So today as I was walking out of the Victoria's Secret I noticed something...

Okay, a couple things before I go on. First off I know what you're thinking and the answer is no, you filthy-minded buggers. They don't carry my size so it wasn't for me. I was buying body spray for Legal Counsel, because the best message you can send your significant other is, "cover up your stink." Second off, there is no more awkward feeling than being a guy and walking into Victoria's Secret alone. Except maybe walking into Frederick's of Hollywood alone. Guys walking into VS will get the stare I imagine is typically reserved for the mustachioed gentleman as he nails a Megan's Law sign into his front yard.

Anyway, what I noticed was that I would not hold the bright pink bag by it's little string handle. I was gripping the bag itself and tucking it under my arm, as though I was preparing to run it in for a touchdown. Even after noticing how I was carrying it, I couldn't bring my to use the handle. My arm rejecting the command. It's as though my body was worried the jaunty swinging motion would make me look more girly as I carried the bright pink bag around.

I realized that the same is true for plastic bags. I don't grab the little handle-holes. I wrap up my product and carry it like a severed head in a Hefty bag. Or if you prefer a less morbid analogy, like I'm palming a dodgeball...in preparation for beating somebody to death with it. Dang it, I have to go there, don't I?

This train of thought (and yes, that was my actual train of thought) made me remember an observation Legal Counsel had made. If I, or most other guys, am offered a straw with my drink at a restaurant, I won't use it. More manly that way, I s'pose. Wouldn't want to put something so phallic in my mouth. Of course we men won't hesitate to use the straw if it's already in the drink, because...well...when opportunity knocks...this is uncomfortable. Moving on!

Don't get me wrong - I am in no way insecure about my masculinity. I'm an avid fan of Project Runway (go Kenley!), I keep an up-to-date list of my man-crushes (Ewan always has been and always will be #1), and I am currently on the waiting list for a Smart Car. But something inherent in my body refuses to let me do certain things. Maybe there's a gene on the Y chromosome that prevents guys from breaking certain Man Laws: skipping, singing in a falsetto voice in public, letting a stray deer get away without taking at least one shot at it, etc.

Wait, I do all of those things! Is my Y chromosome broken? Let me think...

I can't throw a ball more than 10 feet (3.048m)
I don't follow any sports teams
I prefer drinks named after child actresses from the 1930s over beer
I openly cry in front of people...constantly
I know how to knit

Yep, I've definitely broken my Y chromosome. As an almost-a-doctor (yikes, scary thought), I should know how to fix it. Hmm... I know! Rub some dirt on it and walk it off. It's the only way!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to studying for the boards. And crocheting. Always with the crochet...

Oh, hello! When did you get here?

2008-04-04T22:12:00.004-07:00

I'm worried my blog has jumped the shark. And not the cute, Henry Winkler on Arrested Development self-referential kind of way. The bad kind of way. The kind of way where material starts to dwindle and your favorite show tries a spin-off to draw in new viewers. I think maybe I'll just update this one whenever I can. Screw the wards!

I'm just going to keep blaming medical school. During my first two years I could write in class and study later because, to be honest, even when I wasn't writing in class I was just imagining old Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoons. But sadly I don't have that luxury anymore. Even on my "easy" rotations I work constantly, and I live half way between Phoenix and Santa's Workshop so I end up driving a lot. And given the choice between my readers and my wife, I'm going to choose my wife.

Speaking of which...

Update the First: Montgomery's Marital Magic
Over winter break, I married the Most Magical Woman on Earth™ at the Most Magical Place on Earth™ - Walt Disney World! Here is an artist's rendition:

That's actually how our cake topper looked. But if you'd prefer a more creepy image:

Yikes. FYI, Precious Moments figures give me the Jibblies. I'm pretty sure the people who collect them are the same people who taxidermy relatives. Anyway...

It was an awesome time and it encompassed my entire winter break. The morning after my shelf exam I flew to Florida. 5-ish days of Park hopping led into an awesome ceremony at Disney's Wedding Pavilion presided over masterfully by the Reverend Larkitect. Cake cutting at the Grand Floridian with an amazing toast by my Broseph. Reception luau dinner at the Polynesian. 2 nights at the Wilderness Lodge. Honeymoon suite for a honeymoon cruise of the Caribbean for a week, then New Year's Eve in NYC with Areenos and jPod where I randomly ran into another med student from my class (what're the odds? 1 in a million sounds pretty accurate, actually). Then home for a few days before my next rotation started.

Whew, I'm exhausted just writing about it. It couldn't have been any better. Unless we won the lottery and I cloned a pachycephalosaurus and put a saddle on it and trained it to carry me around. That would've been pretty good, too.

Things have been great since then. We're a happy couple. Speaking of which...

Update the Second: Time for Bed
I've neglected the Missus long enough. Time to hit the hay. Then after that I'm going to bed.

Yay, sleep! That's where I'm a viking!

Montgomery Wards

2007-11-18T10:07:00.000-07:00

Here

Not a great start, but hopefully thing will pick up.

It'll be like "Montgomery Road: The College Years"

2007-10-09T20:15:00.000-07:00

Except Legal Counsel won't be sleeping with Patrick Fabian*.

Let me just start off by saying that I love writing. A lot. So much so that if I thought I had any real talent and/or dedication I'd want to try to make a career of it. So understand that my lack of posts is not out of sheer laziness, but out of lack of time. And a little laziness. And Guitar Hero II. Damn you, Harmonix!

So I really do want to be writing on here, honest. But my life has kind of been consumed by medicine. I work most of the day, study for another good chunk, and (to be honest) I'd prefer to spend my remaining free time playing with Legal Counsel.

But even Legal Counsel has been pushing me to start writing again, so now I have to. But I have another issue: I never wanted Montgomery Road to become a "medical blog." This is my sanctuary from the world of medicine. My place to make obscure references, discuss zombie defense strategies, and insult D-Rock's overweight promiscuous mother.

What I'm getting at is this: I'm thinking of starting a new blog. A blog in which I can discuss medicine without feeling like it has metastasized to every facet of my life. It's a hollow gesture, I know, but just humour me. It'll still be my attempts at comedy, not a serious discussion of grown-up medical issues. Nobody wants that.

So I've got a small back log of material, ready to go. But I don't have a name! Everything I thought of was taken. So I'm asking you, my readers (if there are any of you left), to offer me suggestions of what I should call my spin-off/sequel blog. If I like your suggestion, I'll use it and send you a monthly bill for royalties**. Let the smart ass comments begin!

Although Montgomery Road: The College Years sounds pretty good... Too bad that would have to be a prequel.

* that reference was a little much, even for me. Must've been building up for a while.
** don't question it.

Lesson o' the Day

2007-08-31T18:05:00.000-07:00

Not everybody has a sense of humor.

Today in the world of Psychiatry we had a lecture on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which quickly turned into a lecture on neuroanatomy. The doctor was trying to explain the function of the amygdala using the time-honored technique of analogy, and the following exchange took place:

Doctor: You can't expect the amygdala to process information like the prefrontal cortex, they have totally different functions. If you're not psychotic, would you wake up in the morning and ask your elbow for stock quotes?
Montgomery: ...no?
Doctor: Right! And why is that?
Montgomery: Because my elbow only reads the editorials.

The doctor responded in the following ways, in this order:
1. Confused look
2. Blank stare
3. Half-hearted laugh
4. Crook eye

Needless to say, it was awkward. I can see my evaluation now: "knowledgable, works well with patients, possibly delusional."

I'm still alive, only I'm very badly burned

2007-08-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

Man, 3rd year is busy. If I didn't enjoy it so much, I'd be rather depressed. But I'm lovin' it™, so life is good.

The hours are still killer, so my blogging continues to suffer. Once I finish my work-a-day, I just want to spend time with Legal Counsel. Sorry, readers.

I'm updating now for fear that somebody might declare squatter's rights. On a related note, 50 guys declared squatter's rights on D-Rock's mom's face last night. I've still got it!

Things that have happened since my last post:

I finished my OB/GYN rotation. Once December rolls around, I'll never see a vagina again.
Psych started. Pelvics are a lot more difficult nowadays.
I got a new Disneyland Annual Passport for my birfday, courtesy of Legal Counsel. She knows how to keep me happy.
We went to Venice Beach. If anything deserves a blog post, it's that place. For a bunch of communist hippies, they certainly care a lot about money.
Traffic still sucks. So does D-Rock's mom. Zing!

TTFN, peeps.

Sodalicious

2007-07-25T17:59:00.001-07:00

I recently expressed my disdain for Phoenix on this blog, and I stand by my assessment. Especially after driving home on the I-17, mired in traffic for an hour only to find that everyone had slowed down for absolutely nothing. Usually everybody comes to a screeching halt because somebody is changing a tire or because a pigeon has come to rest on the median. but this time, nothing. If you're going to drive like a damned fool, at least have a damned fool reason for doing so.

But recently a ray of sunshine has come to penetrate this festering pile* of a city. Now you might be wondering, "how would a ray of sunshine penetrate a festering pile?" Simple: holes in the ozone layer. Just ask Al Gore. He'll tell you. At great length. Whether you want him to or not. Al, if you're reading this, please leave my house. And if you want Bugles™, go buy some yourself and quit bugging me.

Anyway, the metaphorical ray of sunshine which has penetrated this figurative festering pile is the discovery that Glass Bottled Coke** abounds in this city. Mmm... glass bottled Coke.... In Tucson, you'd have to search for literally minutes to find coke in a glass bottle. But during my stay in Phoenix, I've randomly stumbled onto at least three locations that actively display Coke bottles for sale. You know what, change "randomly stumbled" to "drunkenly stumbled."

If you're sitting at your computer wondering what the big deal is about Coke in a glass bottle, you should be hanged, drawn and quartered. That's right, I'm getting pre-1870 British on your ass. Glass bottle coke is the most del.icio.us thing I've tasted since I stole ambrosia from Hephaestus. Hehe, sucker...

I don't really know why it's so tasty. Maybe they save their best batches for the glass bottles. Or maybe it's psychological. The most likely explanation is that the microscopic silica particles from the glass tear up my mouth and esophagus, allowing for better transfer of flavor. You know, the same reason they put fiberglass in chewing tobacco. I guess that would make bottled coke less delicious and more siliceous. How's that for a fancy pants word?

So I've been indulging in the flavor hoedown that is glass bottled soda, waiting for Legal Counsel to finish the Bar and move up here. Wait a minute, she took the Bar yesterday/today*** and she moves up tonight! Sweet! That'll make two good things in Phoenix. No offense, Phoenix readers. Lots of offense, Phoenix non-readers. Maybe when she gets here I'll take her to Pop the Soda Shop.

It's going to be hard to blog if I'm playing patty-fingers...

*please be fully aware that I exaggerate for creative reasons
**no, D-Rock and Bees, I didn't say glass bottomed boat
***she kicked ass, obviously

Do you think they'll find his head?

2007-07-20T20:58:00.001-07:00

I hope so.

Nomogozrobich Domovon

2007-07-20T18:18:00.000-07:00

Which mean "In my country there is problem"

As you all know, I like to use my blog as a platform for social change. :-D Man, I couldn't even keep a straight face online. For realsies, though, I like to use my blog to force my views on other people. "I have a blog, and you don't. So you will listen to every damn word I have to say!"

There's a problem in America and, I have to assume, worldwide. I problem that threatens to destroy all of civilization. The modern equivalent of Mount Vesuvius destroying Pompeii, Atlantis sinking into the ocean, or Jesus blowing up the dinosaurs with his god-powers so that Christians would be the top of the food chain*. The problem I'm referring to is, of course, guys tucking t-shirts into shorts.

Shudder...

It's an abomination and I'll have no more of it! It shows a fundamental lack of understanding regarding both t-shirts and shorts. These guys have got everything all wrong, and somebody needs to say something. I assume you are all being too polite, and I am anything but, so I suppose it will have to be me...

An open letter to guys who tuck their t-shirts into their shorts
Stop it!

T-shirts are a casual article of clothing. So are shorts. There is no reason to tuck the former into the latter. None at all. Tucking is an act of formal dress. So please, for the love of Dino-Killer himself, stop doing it. You look like an ass**.

You're wearing what would have essentially been undergarments fifty years ago, so don't try to pretend you're dressed nice. You're not fooling anyone, slacker.

It's the Haberdashery equivalent of the mullet. Business in the middle, party on the ends. You wouldn't cut your hair into a mullet, would you? Actually, let me revise my sentiments: you can tuck your t-shirt into your shorts if and only if you also have a mullet. Picture that combo, it just seems right.

It's not your fault. You middle aged guys are stuck between two strikingly different generations. My generation, which wears t-shirts, shorts, and flip-flops everywhere and believe that "tucking" is the act of assisting Robin Hood. Then there's two generations ago, where men wouldn't dare be seen in public in anything less than slacks, a button down shirt and a pipe - a situation which demands tucking, and a wife who never leaves the house.

You can't mix those two worlds. It just doesn't work. It's like mixing oil & vinegar: great for covering salad, not so great for covering your naked body. That metaphor took a turn in a bad direction. Middle aged guy covered in salad dressing. jibbly. There is nothing appealing about that thought. Unless it's Gary Oldman. And honey mustard. Mmmm, Garoney Mustman

In summary, stop tucking those t-shirts. You're wearing casual clothes, now wear them in a casual manner. I'm pretty sure Al-qaeda hates us because of our shirt tucking practices; I think the Qur'an*** forbids it or something. For the good of the country, pull out that t-shirt.

Thank you,
Montgomery

* that's actually what they teach in Kansas.
** re-reading yesterday's post made me realize that I said ass a lot. What can I say? That's how I roll.
*** I only offended two religions in this post. I'm out of practice.

Return of the Living Dead

2007-07-19T19:03:00.000-07:00

Man, you guys are vicious. What kind of world do we live in where a guy can't disappear for over a month, unannounced and unexplained, without getting eTarred and eFeathered. I'm not a role model!

But seriously folks, I'm sorry for my absence. Things kind of got crazy in non-blog world, aka the real world. But I'm back from my hiatus and ready to go. I hope. I'll try to be better.

Right now I'm reporting live from Phoenix, aka The Devil's Taint. If it wasn't for my family and Legal Counsel's job, there would be no reason to live here. It's like a more crowded, hotter, franchise-riddled version of Tucson that's constantly under construction. But at least it's 2 hours closer to Disneyland.

Here's a quick rundown of things that have happened since my last post:

I kicked the USMLE Step 1 square in the ass
I attended a wedding for people I had never met. I'm going to just go ahead and count that as a Wedding Crash, even if it was Legal Counsel's family.
I went to Universal Studios and rode Back to the Future The Ride one last time before it closes. I'd be sad, but I'm sure Christopher Lloyd and Michael J Fox will show up just in time to save it. Well, maybe Michael J Fox will show up alone and save the ride and Christopher Lloyd's career at the same time. I love that guy, why isn't he in more movies?
I went on a sweet-ass road trip to Las Vegas with Larkitect. Let me tell you, he puts the "sweet-ass" in "sweet-ass road trip." I'd tell you more, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Except HPV - sorry, pal.
I've assisted on about 10 c-sections. FYI, in medical student lingo "assisted" means "observed while trying to stay out of the way and not do too much damage." I did get to suture once, which was fun. Fun for me, not for that poor woman. Yikes.
Delivered three babies, and watched another 3 or 4 being delivered.
Watched an episiotomy for the first time, which I was subsequently instructed to repair. My advice to you all: avoid teaching hospitals like the plague. Unless you have the plague, in which case you should go to one. It would be a good teaching experience.
Performed several pelvics, many prenatal exams, and observed a colposcopy.

If you couldn't tell, my first rotation is in OB/GYN. I don't do this stuff recreationally...anymore. It's pretty crazy, but a lot more fun and a lot less awkward than I expected. Mostly I'm just glad to be in the real world.

The weirdest part about OB/GYN is that there are about a dozen babies out there who's first view of the world included my face. And that is terrifying. Those poor little babies. Not a good way to start your life. No sir...

I'd write more about my experiences, but I'm sure it would all be completely inappropriate. And we all know how blogging about real world medical experiences can come back and bite you on the ass. Plus, I try to use this monstrosity as an excuse for creative writing rather than real-world chronicling, which might become increasingly difficult as my clerkships encompass me like a brain cloud.

That's all for now. I'm post-call and my brain is still a little fuzzy. I'll try to come up with something worth reading ASAP.

Plumber's Quack

2007-06-14T21:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most of you already aware of this but on 24 May 2007 George W "Dubya" Bush nominated James W "Double U" Holsinger for Surgeon General*.

There's no doubt in my mind that he nominated "Dr" Holsinger based entirely on his middle initial. And that's fine. It seems like a higher standard than he applied to any of his other officials. He's the president. He can do what he wants. Unfortunately.

I was fine with the decision because really, who cares? It's a political position. But then a certain piece of information was brought to my attention - by the Colbert Report, I think. It's sad that I get most of my news from Comedy Central. Or is it? At least they are willing to ridicule both sides.

Anyway, what i learned was that "Dr" Holsinger published a paper entitled "The Pathophysiology of Male Homosexuality." Right of the bat**, I have a problem with the paper. The title implies that homosexuality is a pathologic condition. Sigh. I could spend all day criticizing this, but it wouldn't be funny. Moving on!

In a much publicized quote from the paper, "Dr" Holsinger writes:

The logical complementarity of the human sexes has been so recognized in our culture that it has entered our vocabulary in the form of naming various pipe fittings either the male pipe fitting or the female pipe fitting depending upon which one interlocks within the other.

You're using plumbing as support for your argument? Really?

Don't get me wrong, I love plumbers. My grandfather was a plumber, Mario & Luigi are plumbers. Plumbers are cool. But you can't go basing medicine on plumbing. Trust me, I've tried. After eight attempts to replace a faulty aortic valve with a ball cock***, you learn your lesson. Just ask me and/or Thomas Crapper****.

But lets take a look at the anaology anyway, shall we? He is implying that the only possible connection between two pipes is male-->female. That's all wrong!

He believes that you can't/shouldn't connect two pipes with male fittings. But you know what? Male pipes often have a receptive fitting on the other side! All you have to do is turn one around, and you can connect two males. Just like with humans!

And female to female is almost as easy. If you need to connect two female fittings, all you need is the proper connector. And that's just plain sexy! Ask Jennifer Connelly, she'll tell you.

You know what? Maybe this pipe analogy isn't so bad. With enough imagination you can draw all sorts of parallels.

In conclusion, "Dr" Holsinger probably knows as much about medicine as he does about plumbing. But maybe his analogy wasn't as wrong as I initially assumed. It's just not what he intended.

Gives a whole new meaning to Pipefitters union.

*of the United States
**what does this phrase even mean? Are bats known for getting straight to the point? Or is it a baseball analogy. Hey, that might be it!
***giggle
****oh my god, giggle much?

I feel the need to share

2007-06-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

Everybody hates the guy who just writes about things he reads while studying (wink), so I'm trying not to be that guy. But this one is too good to pass up. I found it on wikipedia while researching the "chandelier sign."

John Thomas sign
The John Thomas sign, also known as the Throckmorton sign, is the position of a penis as it relates to pathology on an x-ray of a pelvis. When the penis (visible on the x-ray as a shadow) points towards the same side as a unilateral medical condition (such as a broken bone), this is considered a "positive John Thomas sign", and if the shadow points to the other side, it is a negative John Thomas sign. This sign is of no medical significance and is employed as a humorous aside.

This is an example of the mature ego defense known as "Humor."

Updates

2007-06-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it, I'm guilty of dereliction of duty. It's been two-and-a-half weeks since I got back from Walt Disney World (which was awesome) and this is my first post. And it's not even a real post! It's an apology and update. I am ashamed...

I've been devoting all my time to studying for the USMLE Step 1. It's kind of a big deal. To quote Wikipedia:

The Step 1 exam is arguably the hardest and most important examination a medical student will take during his/her career.

See? If Wikipedia says it, it must be true. Besides studying, I've been spending the remainder of my time with Legal Counsel. She's still as perfect as ever.

And speaking of Legal Counsel, we've got some good news. We've set a wedding date and location!

On 20 December 2007 we will be tying the knot at Disney's Wedding Pavillion in fabulous Walt Disney World! How sweet is that?! We've scrapped our inital Hawaii plans in favor of a (much cooler and more appropriate) Walt Disney World wedding with a Caribbean cruise honeymoon.

Montgomery's love of Legal Counsel + Montgomery's love of Disney Theme Parks = best wedding ever

We had already reserved the location before our trip, and the trip let us make sure that it was perfect. Their wedding plans look awesome, and they always get great reviews and recommendations. I know it'll be perfect because Disney always does everything with quality. The number of guests we can invite is just enough for both of our families. And it'll be a great excuse for everybody to take a vacation. It's all going to be perfect.

Now all I have to do is make it through the Step 1 and half of my third year rotations. I'm going to be distracted by wedding thoughts literally the entire time.

So long, suckers!

2007-05-14T17:54:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm leaving for Walt Disney World tomorrow. Not that you'd notice with my lack of blogging lately. Anyway, I recommend you entertain yourselves here while I'm gone. A little behind the times, but amusing nonetheless.

Inappropriate

2007-05-09T15:13:00.000-07:00

So D-Rock and I are studying endocrinology today and part of tomorrow. As we were studying the thyroid, the subject of goitrogens came up. Goitrogens are substances that can suppress the thyroid and create goiters. As I scanned down the list, one of the vegetables stood out. That vegetable: rapeseed. Not cool, botanists. Not cool.

But don't worry, the name is totally innocent. It's derived from the Old English word for "turnip" - rapum.

You can't make this stuff up.

In other news, D-Rock has a warrant in England out for his arrest. The charge: turnip.

Excuses, excuses

2007-05-08T20:55:00.000-07:00

Straight from final exam studying to boards studying. Why is it always the blog that has to suffer? I'll try to do better.

Two down, one to go

2007-05-01T20:43:00.000-07:00

I am done with my microbiology test. And my microbiology class! That's a relief.

The kind of relief
you feel
when you open the car door
for your lady
she gets in and sits down
the door closes
and you can finally let go that fart
you've been holding in
since the preview for Knocked Up.

Apparently it was such a relief that I was able to write a poem! Suck it, Ted Kooser!

Anyway, my current respite has given my brain time to experience a few flights of fancy. Specifically, I've come up with yet another solution for our nation's obesity crisis. Granted it won't be as fun as hedonism, but it just might work. I'll outline my plan in another poem:

Your melon baller
Used as an ice cream scooper
Vice versa, also

It was a haiku that time! Yippee!

Pathology study time...

Medical Microbiology Merriment

2007-04-30T18:37:00.000-07:00

I had my Social & Behavioral Sciences test this morning, and it had such challenging questions as, "Should you talk to patients who are in wheelchairs?" Don't get me wrong, I think it's a great class and students in the new curriculum are going to suffer as doctors for not having it. But they usually make their test questions really easy. Not that I'm complaining.

Microbiology, on the other hand, is going to be quite difficult. So as soon as I finished SBS, I ran to Taco Bell to get some diarrhea, then headed back to the school to study cases on the lab computers. Most of the questions are fairly mundane, but every once in a while something sticks out...like an HPV papule. Here are my highlights:

He was a catfish farmer who lived in eastern kansas, and had been recently finned by a catfish.

Finned by a catfish? That's just cool. Based on that history, I diagnose him with a scruffy grey beard and suspenders. My prescription: catfish revenge. You fin him right back, sir!

Immediately prior to the onset of symptoms, he stated that he had been beaten with a club in the right chest.

I'm going to have to assume this guy is either a caveman or level 8 paladin. My recommendation: stop getting beaten with clubs. I wonder how his left chest is doing? Good to know he has two, one as a backup.

They had three dogs, no other children, no day care, no travel, no mexican cheese...

Well that's good to know. It's delicious, but deadly. Much like myself.

Her clinical course was complicated by ARDS, gram negative and enterococcal sepsis, acute tubular necrosis, and she required over 300 units of blood.

Wow, this lady has some really bad luck. Also, she's got enough blood to fill 50 adults, which is a huge risk factor for vampire attacks. Practicing preventitive medicine, I'd prescribe: garlic, crosses and wooden stakes. Or maybe not...overprescription can lead to resistance. And the last thing we need is a bunch of garlic-resistant vampires.

One week previously a novice dialysis technician had some difficulty canulating his fistula for dialysis. Three days ago the fistula sight became slightly red and sore.

I know enough medical jargon to understand what's going on, but doesn't "canulating his fistula" sound really dirty? Probably the "anul" and "fist" sounds so close together. And it's no wonder it became red and sore, you don't won't a rookie trying that kind of move. Trust me.

Another highlight is that every time a case has one risk factor, it has to throw in all the rest. It's not just HIV, it's HIV and smoking and alcoholism and unprotected sex and IV drug use. Rock and roll! What are they at risk for? Pretty much everything.

The best part about this program is that when you get an answer correct it says, "Correct!" The exclamation mark makes it seem all happy and proud. But if you get it incorrect it says, "Wrong!" This time, the exclamation mark makes it seem mocking and condescending. Stupid bi-curious punctuation....

Oh well, back to studying.

If they don't serve it, why is it on the menu?

2007-04-27T17:32:00.000-07:00

Come on!

The squeaky wheel gets the green slime

2007-04-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Well, almost.

Montgomery here, reporting live from the University of Arizona Student Union Memorial Center. While studying heart disease in the lovely USS Arizona Lounge, I was reminded that the student union houses a McDonald's. With a mixture of hope and desperation, I ventured forth to that bastion of flavor searching for my long lost love, the Shamrock Shake.

Lo and behold, it doth appear on the menu. Huzzah! Then my curious eyes wandered south to yon shake machine only to see a sign reading, "No Shakes."

Oh cruel fate, why must thou mock me so? Suddenly I got the same feeling of dashed hopes I felt the night of November 7, 2000. Here come the tears again...

But all is not lost! I shall repeat my crusade at a later hour to see if the noble crew of that most sacred site have fixed the ambrosia dispenser.

I'll keep you updated, because I know you care.

(un)Happy (belated) St. Patrick's Day!

2007-04-26T20:28:00.000-07:00

I'm riddled with guilt. Riddled! Earlier in the week I may have led you to believe that I'm not blogging because I'm studying for finals. But that's not true. The truth is...I've been crying.

"Crying? Montgomery, you're constantly crying. Why just this morning you were balling because there's an arrest warrant out for Richard Gere in India. It's never stopped you from blogging in the past."

First, Richard Gere is a national treasure and he shouldn't be arrested for drunkenly harassing an Indian actress. Hell, if that was a criteria for arrest, I would have been sent to prison years ago. And let me just say one more time: I'm sorry, Preity Zinta. It won't happen again.

Second, the reason my blogging has suffered is because the crying has been heavier than usual. And that's because I missed an opportunity to fulfill one of my life goals. This one lies right between "#8 - Save a life" and "#10 - Help run a charity event which raises funds to install dancing robots in a children's hospital."

Once again, I've failed to fulfill dream #9 - drink a Shamrock Shake.

As Wikipedia will tell you:

The Shamrock Shake is a seasonal dessert sold at select McDonald's fast-food franchises during March, to commemorate St. Patrick's Day. Essentially, the Shamrock Shake is a standard Vanilla shake, flavored with mint extract and dyed green.

Sounds delicious, doesn't it? So delicious in fact that they only offer it at select times, and once again I've missed it.

I realized my failure late last week during one of my favorite recurring dreams, which I've entitled "Ireland." In "Ireland," Montgomery and Legal Counsel take a vacation to...Scotland, ironically. Just kidding, it's Ireland. During our dream visit to the Emerald Isle, the zombie apocalypse happens and I'm forced to defend a rowdy band of pale-skinned redheads from the undead in a lovely little pub called, "The Cheeky Monkey."

During last week's encounter, however, I was bludgeoning a ghoul to re-death with a shillelagh (as usual) when I suddenly stopped and stared at my blood soaked cudgel. And it clicked. A realization, not the shillelagh. Why would a shillelagh click? Anyway, at that point I woke up screaming, "St. Patrick's Day was last month!!!" Fortunately, Legal Counsel makes me sleep in the backyard. So I didn't disturb her slumber.

Now I keep having the same nightmare every night: legions of Uncle O'Grimacey clones taunting me as they sip the creamy green goo. Now I cry every day. Well, cry more. And my blogging has suffered. Tear...

Oh well. Another year, another missed opportunity. But in the off chance that anybody happens to see the Shamrock shake on a menu, let me know and I'll make a pilgrimage. Mmm...minty...

Also, if you happen to see a shillelagh for sale, go ahead and buy it for me. Especially if you're in Ireland. Mmm...blackthorn...

Too funny...

2007-04-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

In case my blogging slows during finals season, this should help keep you entertained:
The Landlord.

I wouldn't be advertising that fact

2007-04-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

I bailed on class because I feel sick. I've probably got shigella and/or pre-eclampsia.

Anyway, I'm at home about to study and I turn on the telly for some background noise. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear but Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez in Gigli.

Holy crap! Disease and Gigli?? This must be my lucky day!

During the first commercial break, the announcer said:

Gigli is brought to you by Alavert...

Seriously, Alavert? This is what you choose to spend your money on? I gotta be honest with you, I'm probably not going to recommend your medicine in the future because of this endorsement.

Gigli? Come on!

I hope you're proud of yourselves.

Verbal Assault

2007-04-18T07:57:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you know that my favorite things to do are:

1. Keepin' it real
2. Chillaxin'
3. Kickin' it old school

And today I'd like to address number 3.

I'm a big fan of kickin' it old school; you know how I do. Ninja Turtles, Transformers, pogs - it's all good. As a subset of kickin' it old school, I also like bringin' things back from the old school.

In the past year or so, I've managed to bring a lot of things back from said old school. Shoe wedgies made a wicked comeback, until I nixed them in frustration. The hand circle game also reared its paranoia inducing head, only to be similarly nixed. And who can forget "that's what he/she said?" Round these parts, you can expect a "that's what she said" regardless of whether your comment involves any actual inuendo.

I've spearheaded all of these movements...maybe I shouldn't be advertising that fact. Anyway, I think it's time for me to add another long lost item to our ever growing repertoire. But I have to admit this one is a little evil.

This time around it's a phrase. But not just any phrase. It's an annoying phrase. One that's obnoxious enough to slightly enrage anyone it's directed toward. A set of words that can turn against you at a moment's notice. A verbal kick-in-the-balls.

You know what? Nevermind. I'm not sure if you guys can handle. I'm not even sure if I can handle it. It's too volatile. Forget I said anything.

What? You have to know? You're willing to give me $50 each if I tell you what I was thinking? Alright, I'll tell you. I take checks, money orders and cash. And gold krugerrands.

The phrase we need to bring back is, "let's not and say we did."

In case you have never heard this one, here's how it works:
Person A: You want to go try to figure out the D.B. Cooper case?
Person B: Let's not and say we did.
Person A: Jerk.

You see what I mean?? It's so repugnant, but simultaneously slightly funny. It's aggravating and condescending, but just a little amusing. I might say it was smarmy, but I don't know what smarmy means.

If the target has a good sense of humor, they might laugh as they call you a jerk. If they don't have a sense of humor, they might stab you with a spork...possibly a knork. If they're really mad, you might get a splayd in the eye.

So be careful with it. It's like a water balloon full of hydrochloric acid: effective in the hands of somebody who knows what they're doing, but dangerous to the inexperienced user.

I'll start things off.
Montgomery: Hey gang, let's bring back the phrase "let's not and say we did."
Roadies*: Let's not and say we did.
Montgomery: You jerks! I'll cut you! I'll cut all of you!

* I'm thinking of calling my readers, "roadies." Other options: Road Warriors and Roadodendrons. But you might not be cool enough for those. Or too cool, I'm not sure.

You can't handle it

2007-04-17T08:03:00.000-07:00

Last week in Tucson, 104.1 "The Point" aka Z104.1 (your home for modern hit music) was converted to 104.1 The "Truth." Note the discreet change in quotation mark placement.

The "Truth" is very amusing to me. First, because the name is ironic. You see, The "Truth" is a conservative talk show station now. It broadcasts such "esteemed" media personalities as Laura Ingraham (gross!), Neal Boortz (sick!), Jerry Doyle (disgusting!), and Papa Bear Bill O'Reilly (swoon). Calling conservative talk shows the "truth" is like calling fullerene "C₆₄." It's just not right!

The other reason it amuses me is because of their subject matter. Or lack thereof. For a solid week, all they've talked about is Don Imus. In case you've been living under a rock, he's the radio host who got fired for making racist/sexist comments on the air. Here's a picture to make it completely obvious why he would be making disparaging comments about other people:

As you can see, he looks like a dessicated version of Bill Nighy. Or a slightly rehydrated version of the Crypt Keeper.

Here's my quick and dirty summary of the whole controversy: a guy who gets paid to be an asshole on the radio got fired for being an asshole on the radio. Pretty simple, right? He crossed the line, offended his audience/sponsors/bosses, and he got fired. Case closed.

Ha! You wish! His actions and the subsequent fallout created a veritable thyroid storm of media frenzy. He's been dominating all of the essentially useless 24 hour news networks. When you've got 24 hours to fill, I guess you need to make the most of what little you've got. And nowhere is this more true than on 104.1 The "Truth."

Legal Counsel noticed it first. If you listened to 104.1 at any point last week, you would hear the words "Don" and "Imus" at intervals no greater than 2 minutes, sometimes down to 2 seconds. Granted, one incident was the announcement that a wonderful performance of Don Giovanni was being put on in Imus, Cavite in the Philippines. But the rest pertained to Don Imus the radio guy.

In typical conservative fashion, they tried to use this incident of racism and sexism to prove that racism and sexism do not exist anymore. In typical liberal fashion, I vomited into my CD player. They spent air time describing why we shouldn't be spending air time on this, they seemed to use this incident as an argument against the 1st amendment (and somehow the 3rd), and a bunch of white folks argued why the comment wasn't offensive to minorities. They managed to make a bunch of completely ridiculous statements seem totally rational. It was breathtaking.

So I've been spending my time laughing at conservative talk radio, completely centered around Imus. By the way, if you live in Tucson and saw a big goofy guy LOLing in his car, don't worry. It wasn't a crazy guy, it was just me. Well, maybe I'm a little crazy.

There seemed to be no end in sight. Then this shooting happened. And the "truth" wasted no time swooping and and using it for political means. The best part is that they actually said it would be wrong to use this incident as support for gun control, then preceeded to use it as support for everything on their platform. Hypocritical much? It'd be funny, if it wasn't so sad this time.

That's all I have to say about that. I'll try not to blog about conservative talk radio in the future. Their antics provide enough fodder to fill an entire blog, and lots of people already do that. I just wanted to let you know what has been keeping me entertained as of late. Also entertaining me: a rat with a snickers tied to his tail. He just keeps going in circles!

PS - hosts on The "Truth" also really love Bill Cosby.

Pen 15

2007-04-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

Last week marked a critical moment in my medical educational. A moment that can make or break any budding physician (that's right, physicians reproduce through budding...like yeasts). Last week, I learned how to place a urethral catheter. Vsskdjf2341eakbnrjhvlb...

Sorry, fell over and curled up into the fetal position on my keyboard. You see, I placed a catheter in a male practice dummy. "How did you know it was a male dummy?" "Didn't you notice the tiny balls?" I had sympathy pains for my artifical friend. Although it helps to pretend that I was torturing a rogue robot...a roguebot.

Let me walk you through the steps:

Step 1: Cut a hole in the box
Step 2. Put your...

Sorry, wrong steps. That's junk in a box. In need tube in a junk. Let's try again:

Step 1 - Place sterile sheet over the patient's lower abdomen
Now it looks like you're going to have a picnic on their tummy.

Step 2 - Place a second sterile sheet (this one with a whole in the middle) around the penis
Now it looks like your patient's junk is about to eat lobster.

Step 3 - Scrub the penis with iodine to kill any bacteria
Now it looks like your patient just had sex with Prickle

Step 4 - Coat the catheter in lubricating jelly
Now we're getting somewhere.

Step 5 - Insert the catheter
Now things get tricky. Slipping rubber tubing into a dude's package is not as easy or as fun as it sounds. It can collapse on the way up, requiring all sorts of twisting and turning. But we were given the advice that using a larger catheter can make things easier, since it is less likely to collpase.

This means that at some point in my medical career, I might get to say, "I'm sorry, I can't quite get this tube all the way into your penis. Let me go get a bigger one."

Professor Look Alike o' the Day

2007-04-13T08:48:00.000-07:00

Today's familiar looking professor comes to us from Microbiology. He was teaching parasitology (the study of lawyers) and now he has moved on to infectious disease (the study of D-Rock's mom). Je vous presente Dr. Dangerfield:
As always, I'll add the warning that his online picture differs from his actual appearance. That being said, I think he looks like Judge Reinhold - 16th Chief Justice of the US Supreme Court.

♫Mock Trial with J. Reinhold♫

D-Rock, on the other hand, believes that Dr. Dangerfield looks more like Ryan Stiles.
Pretty good, pretty good.

But last night, I think I solved it. I had a dream that the Wiggles were out on a picnic, laughing and singing and eating barbequed kangaroo. You know, stuff they probably do in real life. Then they stumbled across a container of zygrot-24, the mutagenic fertilizer from that movie Freaked. They started playing with it, when suddenly its toxic effects kicked in. As a result, they all got stuck together. The four Wiggles became one Wiggle with characteristics of each. And that composite was named Dr. Dangerfield. Here's a picture to help you out:
I know it takes a little imagination, but if you look hard enough you can see it. You have to stare through the picture, like a magic eye.

Whatever happened to magic eyes?

Fruit Cocktail

2007-04-11T08:40:00.000-07:00

When Legal Counsel and I first moved into our current residence, we had a vision (or as my psychiatrist calls it, a folie-a-deux). One of the elder gods appeared and instructed us to purchase a juicer. So we did. And it is awesome. I've always said that chewing is overrated, and now I can finally bypass my damn stupid teeth. You think you're better than me, teeth? Do ya?? I could have enamel too, ya know...I just don't wanna.

Cut to yesterday, when Legal Counsel returns home with a fresh load of fruit. Score. But she had a surprise in store for me. She had found a "Grapple" (pronounced "grape-l") - it's an apple that tastes like a grape. Witchcraft! I was too excited to juice it, I had to dig right in.

I've got some bad news for anybody hoping to run out and buy some grapples - it's all a lie. you want the truth? It's actually an apple that tastes like an apple, but smells like a grape. Which confuses my senses just enough to increase my brain aneurysm by 1mm. Don't get me wrong, it's still delicious. But that's just because apples themselves are delicious.

So I decided to look it up. And here's what wikipedia has to say:

The product is created by soaking a Fuji apple in artificial grape flavoring

Here I was thinking the grapple was the product of some mad scientist's genetic modification of an apple tree. But no, it's the product of Gilligan bumping into the Professor at the flavor factory.

Maybe this is actually a good thing. It opens up a whole new world of artificial fruit potential. If it was created by cross-breeding fruit, we'd have to resolve ourselves to fruit that just tastes like other fruit: apple that tastes like grape, grape that tastes like orange, orange that taste like pineapple, pineapple that tastes like kumquat, kumquat that tastes like breadfruit, etc.

But using artifical flavoring, we can make them taste like anything! Anything! Just read "Fast Food Nation," you'll learn that they can do wonders with chemical flavoring. Or if you're too lazy to read, get your illiterate ass to the candy shop and eat some Jelly Bellies. Mmm...Jelly Bellies....

With the knowledge that all we need to do is soak a fruit in flavoring, let's explore the things that molecular gastronomists should start working on. It's time to get manifest destiny all over these angiosperms!

Pearamisu
Lemon merango
Lycheetos
Swineapple
Lemonte Cristo sandwich
Cayenngerine
Bear Clawberry
Grape Ape
C-antelope
Bunnydew melon
Beernana
Bubble gumquat
Aprikatsudon
Salamigranate
Key Lime Pie
Blood orange
Breadfruit
Buckcherry

Science is delicious...

Hoppy Belated Easter!

2007-04-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

Easter fell on a Sunday this year, so I didn't have a chance to blog about it. But I still want to inform you, my loyal readers, about the truth behind Easter. I did it for Valentine's Day, and I hope to extend it to most of the formerly religious commercial holidays.

People are always asking me, "Hey Montgomery, why are you stealing the copper wiring from the walls of my house?" But after tapping the handle of my pistol they quickly change the subject to, "Don't worry about it, pal. Hey, while you're here I had a question. What's the deal with Easter? Eggs? Bunnies?"

I usually feed them some lies about the Goddess Eostre, rabbits being a pagan symbol for fertility adopted by Christians, and the egg representing Jesus' rock tomb. And they believe it! Suckers...

But I'm ready to teach you all the truth. You've remained loyal throughout my scandals (Cheryl Ladd is lying about me!), and it's high time I rewarded you. So here we go.

-----

Good Friday. 1322. England.

Peasants were working hard to earn just barely enough money to support their families, of which they would give half to the church and nearly starve to death. Feudal lords and clergymen were rolling around in piles of gold coins and ye olde hookers. Robin Hood was still dead. All was right in the kingdom.

Until they showed up.

They in this context means an advanced race of cyborgs from Xarlon 75. They showed up in flying corn cob shaped spaceships at exactly noon o'clock. The stupid medieval people ran up, thinking them to be angels. Those people were the first to be sucked into the corn cobs through straw like vaccum tubes.

Nobody knows why they showed up. Some say they were looking for a food source, and humans were rumored to make their own gravy when served in water. Some say they needed a new homeworld, having wrecked their own. Some say they were blood-thirsty kill machines, much like Earth's bears. I happen to know the truth. They came to Earth to grind us up and use us as paste for a papier-mâché sculpture of their Grand Warlord, Vondrook the Killtacular.

Good Friday became Holy Saturday and the sucking and squishing continued. That is until one village took a stand. A group of farmers, with no real weapons to speak of, began throwing eggs at the attackers. As luck would have it, the cyborgs were not prepared for a fat-soluble assault, and therefore were helpless when the eggs gummed up their sensors and delicate machinery. The peasants were then free hit them with rakes and shovels. And those little spiky hand tools you use when you're gardening to loosen up the soil, they worked pretty well. Great success!

Word spread quickly of the enemies weakness for eggs, and a counterassault was mounted around the country. But word spread among the enemy as well. They knew of this weakness being exploited and reprogrammed their dodge/duck/dip/dive/dodge reflexes to avert round white missiles. The two sides were at a stalemate.

That is until my great^30 grandfather, Montgomeri the Crazy, came up with a plan. Decorate the eggs with vinegar based dyes, glitter, and shrink paper. By making the eggs pretty, the enemies sensors would get confused and they wouldn't be able to avoid the assault. After an initial test proved successful, Montgomeri and seven score peasants began painting the eggs with Montgomeri's barn of supplies. People always wondered why he had a barn full of vinegar based dyes, glitter, and shrink paper, but nobody dared ask. He had the cold dead eyes of a killer.

The "Battle of the Pretty Eggs and Evil Sky Monsters," as the unoriginal peasants called it, was a great triumph! Cyborgs were getting gummed up left and/or right. To dispose of the nullified (yet still living) cyborgs, Montgomeri and his band of merry men released a batch of carnivorous rabbits onto the battlefield, which would devour the conquered foes. Montgomeri had been breeding the blood-hungry rabbits for years, and again nobody dared ask why.

The cyborgs were defeated on Easter Sunday and Earth went back to normal. Only problem: the church and government couldn't let people know that mere peasants had the ingenuity and strength to defeat the alien cyborgs. So they disavowed all knowledge of the events, and their bravery was doomed to be forgotten.

That is until Montgomeri's royal mistress, Lady Legul Counsul, managed to sneak a reminder into the royal Easter celebrations. Colored eggs would be dispensed by a man in a rabbit costume, and the peasants would always have a memory of that fateful weekend. The royal family was far too inbred to question it. They just liked the giant bunny.

Candy and chocolates were added later because...well...everybody loves candy and chocolate. Also it was a plan by the Man to keep the peasants down via diabetes. Stupid The Man....

-----

So there you have it. The true story behind Easter. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat some more peyote.

A lesson in rhetoric

2007-04-09T17:07:00.000-07:00

Before I start writing, let me ask you all a question: Grindhouse - great movie or greatest movie? Best film ever created by humans.

Today I listened to a talk sponsored by the Pro-Life medical student club in order to get a free lunch from Eegee's. As a result, I feel so dirty that I don't think I'll ever get clean. I don't like making this blog political, but sometimes...you just...and...(Montgomery makes a throttling motion)...you know?

It was a talk put on by an Ann Coulter-esque woman from Arizona Right for Life. Without exaggeration, it was the worst presentation I've ever seen. It was a verbal abortion. This isn't because I disagree with her. Oh no, it was much worse than that - she was bipartisan bad.

I don't care if you're on the side that believes abortion to be a necessary, albeit unpleasant, medical procedure or if you're an ignorant hillbilly, she had no idea what she was doing. It was one long train of logical fallcies, biased samples, out-of-context statements and emotional appeals. It was like watching a hyena try to convince a bunch of monkeys that eating bananas is wrong.

Here are some highlights:

She began her speech by saying that the following things aren't pro-life: slavery, the holocaust, eugenics and the murder of Matthew Shepherd. In the process, she implied that Pro-choicers agree with all those things. Sigh. (By the way, all of those things have been done by people on your end of the political spectrum. Just FYI.)
She said that we don't discriminate based on age. When I asked about voting/drinking/smoking/driving/renting cars, she stopped taking questions.
She kept saying things like "we all agree that a fertilized egg is a human." Um...I never agreed to that.
She compared the murder of a three month old child to a first trimester abortion. When we called her on how ridiculous it was, she just kept acting like there was absolutely no difference between the two and we moved on to...
"A fetus is dependent on the mother, but so is a baby because if mom throws it in the pool it will drown. It's dependent on the mother." I don't even know where to begin on this one...
She repeatedly used out-of-context statements and isolated incidents of pro-choicers saying things against abortion to support her argument.
"Abortions can be dangerous, so abortions are wrong." She neglected to mention that pregnancy is more dangerous than having an abortion.
"300 doctors said that this specific kind of abortion is useless and no more safe than other kinds, so all abortions are wrong." Nice argument. And wow, did you get a whole 300 doctors to say that? Of the millions out there, you got that many? Nice...
She randomly inserted a slide saying that Planned Parenthood distributed an unsafe "sexy" patch. After repeatedly asking for clarification, we learned that it was a contraceptive patch. She's against contraceptives now?? Where the hell did that come from?
She showed a picture of an elephant fetus and said "this is an elephant" then a picture of a human fetus and said, "so this must be a human." Makes a lot of sense.
She had a slide saying that a fetus has metabolism, grows, and differentiates so it must be alive. She skipped that one quickly, probably because she knew that med students would tear it apart. Teratoma much?
She wouldn't take questions or comments, probably because we were calling her on her bullshit.

Basically, it was a stream of non sequitors, red herrings, proof by example, generalizations, half-truths, ignoratio elenchi, ad hoc, ad hominem, ad logicum, ad ignorantium, post hoc ergo propter hoc, com hoc ergo propter hoc, cum laude, ipso facto, nolo contendere, habeas corpus...whoa, starting to get a little dizzy. Where am I?

I'm more than happy to listen to both sides of the argument*, but try actually using facts and real logic. Not logical fallacies disguised as truth. Sometimes it was just straight up lies. Like I said - it was the worst speech I have ever heard. I think somebody did a D&C on her brain.

The worst part: she said she used to teach debate. I think I can guess why she doesn't have that job anymore. It takes about two seconds to tear any of her arguments apart. She probably trained a whole generation of idiots.

I've heard a lot of well constructed arguments against abortion, and this was not one of them.

Get that shit out of my school.

Sorry for ranting. Needed to vent.

* not really

Not the best blog on the internets

2007-04-04T07:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was hanging out in the law library (jibbly), when an unexpected guest showed up. Actually, several dozen unexpected guests showed up. A group of students I initially assumed, and later confirmed, to be a group of pre-law undegrads started roaming the library on some sort of publication scavenger hunt. They were loudly discussing where certain books might be found and from the sound of things, our university needs to introduce a general education class which teaches the alphabet. Anyway, the law library isn't the most quiet place on campus but this was ridiculous.

So I left the library and studied in the lounge. And by "studied" I mean "contemplated who had the genius idea of setting a scavenger hunt in the library." Several phrases started springing to mind: "not the sharpest knife in the drawer," "not the brightest bulb in the box," etc. But those phrases aren't good enough. Not good enough! They're so old. Older than Bees, even.

Think about it; "not the sharpest knife in the drawer?" That phrase is probably as old as knives themselves...at least as old as drawers. We need some newer, hipper phrases to describe stupid people. And if there's one thing I know, it's stupidity. Wait...that didn't come out right.

Anyway, I've decided to head up the drive for new stupid people euphemisms. I'll try to keep them in "not the blankest blank in the blank" format, but I make no promises. Ever. I'll start be rewriting some classics, then I'll move on.

The List
"Not the brighest compact fluroescent in the box"
"Not the fastest sonic knife in the drawer"
"Not the cheapest day worker in front of Home Depot"
"Not the brighest bulb in the Lite Brite"
"Not the fastest conducting neuron in the brachial plexus"
"Not the spiciest chalupa in the Taco Bell"
"Not the largest expanding ozone hole in Al Gore's mind"
"Not the fastest extincting species in the rain forest"
"Not the strongest latte in the Starbucks"
"Not the biggest SUV on the road"
"Not the most fuel efficient hybrid in San Francisco"
"Not the strongest coke balloon in the drug mule's stomach"
"Not the sharpest arrow in Ted Nugent's quiver"
"Not the saltiest pretzel wedged in Dubya's throat"
"Not the greediest pharmaceutical company in the US"
"Not the fastest sperm in D-Rock's mom's vagina"
"Not the most well preserved zombie in the shopping mall"
"Not the most stable mason jar of nitroglycerine in Montgomery's fridge"
"Not the most adopted Pound Puppy"
"More of a Michaelangelo than a Donatello" (works with artists and Ninja Turtles - it's a twofer)
"More Snork than Smurf"
"More Go-Bot than Transformer"
"More Power Ranger than Voltron"
"More Golden Girls than Golden Girls
"More Cabbage Patch Kid than Garbage Pail Kid"
"More M.U.S.C.L.E. than Monster in my Pocket" - wait, both those things are awesome. Scratch it.
"More Filmation's Ghostbusters than The Real Ghostbusters"
"More D-Rock than Montgomery"
"More Leno than Conan"
"More Gettin' Jiggy wit It Will Smith than Parents Just Don't Understand Will Smith"
"More Funky Bunch than Marky Mark"
"More radio than vaudeville"
"He's no William McKinley"

Okay, I'm out of control. But that should be enough to get you all started. Stop using those old and busted phrases and start using my new hotness.

Too close for comfort

2007-04-02T08:44:00.000-07:00

I generally don't pay attention to song lyrics. When you've got the location of every churro vendor in Disneyland memorized, it becomes difficult for your brain to sort through new information. So my lyrical knowledge is limited to songs about Mr. Roboto, big butts, and purple rain.

Fortunately for me, however, Legal Counsel knows the lyrics to every song ever. It's evidence in my theory that the part of the brain dedicated to movie quotes in guys is dedicated to song lyrics in girls. But sometimes she apprises me of the lyrics to a song that remind me why I never listen to the words. This time around, that song is "Too Close" by Next. From wikipedia:

The song is about how the singer gets an erection when he dances too close to his girl...It spent five non-consecutive weeks at the top of the chart.

While I sppreciate the similarity with Grover Cleveland, I do not appreciate the subject matter. Not for any moral or religious reasons, but because they're singing about the most awkward thing that can happen to a guy. Are you trying to give me flashbacks of my uncomfortable teenage years? Let's look at some highlights:

"I wonder if she could tell I'm hard right now"
"Uh oh? You feel that? Alright...you done did it"
"You're making it hard for me"
"It's almost like we're sexin'"
"I feel a little poke comin' through, on you"
"My corpus cavernosum is engorged with blood, thus ensuring erection"

Do you see what I mean? So vulgar. Okay, so maybe that last one isn't in the song, but the rest of them are! The lyrics range from innuendo to straight up (no pun intended) penile description. And by the way, Next, I wouldn't be singing about my "little" poke if I was you.

I'm outraged. Outraged! Google image search, show them how outraged I am:This song is not appropriate and I don't know how it got the greenlight. Remember, I'm not upset by the sexually explicit subject matter, just at how it reminds me of my embarrassing youth. If I had a nickel for every time I had to stay seated at my desk with a backpack on my lap after the bell rang, I'd have several nickels. Don't look so appalled - I really like chemistry.

I don't know who these lyrics are supposed to appeal to. For men, it just reminds us how little control we have over our bodies. Accidentally rubbing an erection against the woman you're dancing with isn't something to brag about. Even during a lap dance it's considered a faux pas. Trust me.

For women, it borders on sexual harassment. I'm not a woman (that I know of...wink), but I probably wouldn't take this as a compliment. Or would I? Wink. I wouldn't. Wink. Stupid twitchy eye. wink.

And for both sexes, it brings back horrible prom memories.

~~Montgomery~~ Guy: "Uhh, sorry. It's my boutonniere."
Girl: "Your boutonniere is in your jacket buttonhole."
~~Montgomery~~ Guy:"Yeah...it's my backup boutonniere."
Girl:"Why would you need a backup boutonniere?"
~~Montgomery~~ Guy:"Umm, In case I get a...massive erection poking you in the hip? Damn it!"

This disturbing look at Montgomery's past brought to you by the B and number one.

Parasitology joke o' the day

2007-03-30T13:17:00.000-07:00

How is D-Rock's mom like a tapeworm?

They can both be found passed out in feces.

Death be not proud

2007-03-30T08:47:00.000-07:00

There have been lots of talks about death, dying and grief in our classes lately. Pretty depressing, but also a good time for reflection and thoughts about our own lives. In order to get us to think about our own mortality, one lecturer this week told us to close our eyes and imagine our "ideal death." He then asked us if we pictured ourselves dying at home, in a hospital or in a hospice and started giving statistics about where people die.

I imagined a lot of scenarios, but none of them involved any of those places. Nice try though. If I die in a bed, things have gone horribly wrong. Don't get me wrong, home/hospital/hospice is a great way to go, but Montgomery is the kind of cowboy that wants to die with his boots on.

But I do appreciate the way you broke it down into three categories: home, hospital and hospice. Three is the magic number, after all. So in deference to your knowledge in the field, I'll break my "ideal deaths" into three categories as well: peaceful, violent and naked.

Peaceful
"Peaceful" in this context does not be "eyes closed, resting." No no, in this case "peaceful" means "not currently violent." This is probably the least desired category, but not without its charms. Top 8:

1. Riding a nuclear bomb like a cowboy as it plummets to earth.
2. Drifting into space with no hope of rescue, preferably listening to Bowie's "Space Oddity" or Schilling's "Major Tom."
3. Happily sacrificing my life to detonate a bomb which will destroy an asteroid on a collision course with Earth, while listening to Aerosmith.
4. Out-of-body experience gone wrong.
5. Out-of-body experience gone right...*wink*.
6. Poisoned (in my ear) while sleeping by a usurper.
7. Driving off a cliff with Larkitect while being chased by cops after a weekend of bank-robbery.
8. Massive stroke mid Disneyland ride.

Violent
A close second to "naked," a violent death is a good way to go. From "hail of gunfire" to "impaled by spear," violent deaths have a long proud history. Top 8:

1. Hail of gunfire.
2. Crushed to death by robots, specifically the Crush-o-Tron 5000.
3. Eaten by zombies, probably by a former friend I didn't have the heart to destroy.
4. Monkey knife fight.
5. Disintegrated by ray gun while using a flagpole (with American Flag) as a weapon to charge attacking aliens.
6. Buried under the corpses of my enemies.
7. Eaten by a malfunctioning Pirate of the Caribbean.
8. Impaled by spear.

Naked
"I was born naked and I'm going to die naked." It's the way to go: classy, memorable and with style. Naked death takes excellent timing and confidence, two things I lack. But I'm in training! Top 8:

1. Throws of passion.
2. Heart attack while streaking.
3. Naked monkey knife fight.
4. Killed by police after a bank robbery goes horribly, horribly wrong.
5. Killed by police after a bank robbery goes horribly, horribly right...*wink*.
6. Severe hip trauma after being kidnapped by amazons.
7. Abducted by aliens, death during "the probe."
8. Massive stroke mid Disneyland ride.

As you can see, my vision of death is considerably less common than those listed in class. But they are in no way less relevant. Don't marginalize my dreams!

Maybe some day I'll tell you what I want to happen to my body after I die. It's much more disturbing...

Our stores are not constantly on fire

2007-03-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

I'm sad to say that Legal Counsel is feeling a touch under the weather. But I'm happy to say that she's still cute, even when she's sick. So I was up late last night making sure she didn't pull a Hendrix on me, and I got up early to sneak out and find the magical Witch's Brew that is guaranteed to cure a sick Legal Counsel - Lipton Chicken Noodle Soup, Extra Noodle. This means that I'm a touch sleepy today, so if my post is more of an incoherent ramble than usual, I apologize. Unless you happen to enjoy incoherent rambling, in which case: you're welcome.

As I was saying, I snuck out this morning to find the panacea necessary for Legal Counsel's recovery. And after scouring* three stores, I finally found some. And when I took it to the register, it was...interesting.

Customer 1**
When I arrived at the register, there were three people in line and one guy behind the register (who looked like a 55 year old man child, with all due respect). And none of them were moving. Seriously, they were all standing completely motionless. I was frightened that the governor of California was robbing the place. Or that I was going to interrupt a statue contest. Or that they were zombies. But then one of them blinked, so I decided they just got red-flashy-thingied, which means I just misssed an alien encounter. Zombies don't blink - remember that.

After standing there with no movement for several minutes, the bagger ran (waddled) up with a gallon of milk and gave it to Customer 1. "It took that long to get milk," I thought, "What, was she milking the cow herself?" Then the register guy said, "What took you so long? Were you milking the cow?" Then I felt like a loser for having the same zinger as the register guy. I am ashamed...

Customer 2***
Customer 2 was an old man who, if I had to guess, probably didn't fight in the Vietnam War because he was a college professor at the time. Economics, I bet. But his appearance wasn't what intrigued me - it was his purchase. He was, at 7am, purchasing a single bag of potatoes and nothing else.

Why? Why the hell would somebody be buying a bag of potatoes at 7 in the morning?? I've come up with five theories.

1) He's bootlegging liquor.
2) He's building a trap to catch some Irish.
3) He murdered his wife, and he needs some more ingredients for his stew.
4) He's playing Mr. Potato Head, old school style.
5) Hash browns.

Given his (assumed) history, I'm going with 5...possibly 4 if he's cool.

Customer 3****
Customer 3 was an old lady in one of the store provided electric wheelchairs. she was buying a handful of food and cleaning items totaling $12.97; she paid with quarters. Sigh! I stood there watching her count out her payment, four quarters at a time, and couldn't help but think she was an old lady stereotype. I was a touch annoyed.

But as I was leaving the store after making my purchase, I saw her again. She was returning the store's shopping scooter. She parked the scooter, stood up, then jogged to her car. No a brisk walk, not a rapid shuffle - a full on jog. It was awesome. She instantly went from annoying-old-lady to awesome-old-lady. Anybody who rides a Rascal just for the hell of it is okay in my book. She probably strolled in, saw the scooter, and decided today would finally be the day she went for it. The day I'm old enough to commandeer a scooter without being questioned about it is the day i really start living.

Customer 4
That was me!

Overall, an interesting trip to the store. but next time I think I'll shop at Fairsley. Come in with your kids, leave with your kids. That's the Fairsley difference.

On an unrelated note: why the hell did it get so cold? Who's trying to kill broccoli?

*I used my computer's dictionary to make sure I was using the word "scour" properly, and one of the definitions it gave was "diarrhea in livestock, esp. cattle and pigs." Good to know.
**I wrote "Patient 1" initially, later noticing and changing it. Sad...
***I did it again. So very sad...
****Nailed it this time! who's house? Run's house!

Let us cavort like the Greeks of old! You know the ones I mean.

2007-03-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Last week we had a most excellent talk on childhood obesity. As a matter of fact, obesity is a subject that comes up constantly in medical school. But this makes sense, since obesity is usually cited as the second leading contributor to morbidity and mortality behind smoking. The main difference between the two is that overeating in public won't make everybody think you're an asshole.

So we spend lots of time talking about obesity: how it effects health (did you know it can cause incontinence?), what causes it (did you know that overeating and inactivity can lead to weight gain?), and how we can prevent it. And it's always that last one that turns out to be the most tricky. Obesity rates are constantly rising, and most anti-obesity programs end up failing. It's a problem without an obvious solution.

But the boys at the Montgomery Road Institute of Health Sciences (NAMBLA) have devised a solution. A success where all others have failed. A solution guaranteed to end all concern about the "obesity epidemic." A solution easy enough to be implemented with no cost to tax payers. A solution so simple it can be broken down to one word:

Hedonism.

That's right, hedonism. From dictionary.com:

he·don·ism [heed-n-iz-uhm] –noun
1. the doctrine that pleasure or happiness is the highest good.
2. devotion to pleasure as a way of life

If we as a culture were to embrace hedonism, all of our concerns over obesity would disappear. You're not "overweight," you just "know how to live well." In fact, concerns about most things would disappear. Life would be good.

Think about it for a minute and I'm sure you'll embrace my ideology. Childhood obesity is diagnosed based on weight percentile. As a doctor I'd be proud to say, "your son is around the 50th percentile, which is totally normal," even when he weighs 350* at age 8**. It's hard to tell a kid he's overweight when all his friends have got him beat by a buck fifty. It'll finally be a good thing to be "below average."

And all that social stigma associated with obesity would disappear. It's hard to mock the fatty when you're staring down a half ton of man meat. Packs of chubs would roam the playgrounds, hunting down the skinny kids. You know, until they get winded and have to take a Cheetos break.

And it's not just kids that would benefit. Adults would have tons (no pun intended) of free time, since they no longer have to exercise. Oh wait, that's already true. Well, they'd feel better about themselves anyway. Skinny models would be banished to the pages of Mad and Cracked and Big Game Hunter. People would stop judging each other based on appearance.

And think of how good the public health statistics would look. People would say, "Before Montgomery came around, HIV was killing 0.05% of the population every year. Now it's only killing 0.0000001% (by volume). He's a hero!" Plus, they'd be too busy scarfing down fries to realize it's because people are falling dead of MIs before the HIV can finish its work. Muahaha!

Hedonism can solve more than obesity, mind you. With everybody out having a good time, most of our problems would disappear. International violence? Gone. School shootings? Nope. Unemployment? Constant consumption means constant job demand. Cancellation of Futurama and Arrested Development? Not if I have anything to say about it! But I'm speaking out of my element. I'll leave that assessment to my colleagues in economics, agriculture, politics, and broadcasting.

We'll all live like kings. Fat, smelly, disgusting kings!

Just think it over, would ya? If you'll excuse me, I've got a deep fried Twinkie™ to re-fry...

*kilograms
**months

Mind Bullets!

2007-03-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

The following is a true story...and a warning.

The other day, I was driving around Tucson minding my own business. Well, technically I was throwing garbage at school children and listening to The Bangles at an obnoxious volume. But I certainly wasn't disturbing other drivers...unless you consider randomly slamming on my brakes and swerving between lanes to be "disturbing." Which you probably do. Okay, so I'm a horrible person and an even worse driver. You happy now?

But this time it wasn't my fault! I was trying to get into the left turn lane as I approached an intersection when the pickup behind me pulls into the lane. He then proceeds to speed up and drive past me, making it rather difficult to get into the lane.

Understandably upset, I proceed to yell,"You're a jerk!" at my closed window. Yes, I do swear like an 8 year old girl, thank you. Anyway, at the instant I finish saying "jerk" I hear a loud pop and see that the guys tire has blown out. He pulls into a gas station as I drive away, laughing maniacally.

Don't get me wrong, I never intended to destroy that guy's wheel. Sure I'm glad it happened, but it wasn't intentional. I didn't know what kind of power I possess. Specifically: the power to jinx people, which may or may not require use of the word "jerk."

And the more I think about it, the more I realize I should have figured it out sooner. Let's look at the facts:

November 2000 - Dubya wins the election, and Montgomery asks, "People voted for him? When did our country fill up with jerks?" The country quickly gets run into the ground by an inept government.

February 2002 - After seeing Crossroads, Montgomery remarks that Britney Spears is a jerk for making such a crappy movie. Brit quickly turns from nationally-adored teen sensation to nationally-abhorred white trash frustration.

May 2003 - Montgomery says that the Southampton Football Club has a bunch of jerks as players. They are defeated, and Arsenal wins the Football Association Cup.

June 2003 - Montgomery remarks that "buttholes are jerks" (nobody knows why). Lawrence v. Texas rules that anti-sodomy laws are unconstitutional, dooming buttholes for all eternity.

March 1841 - Time-travelling Montgomery attends William Henry Harrison's inagural address. during the second hour of the address, Montgomery asks a Whig, "Can you believe this jerk?" The Whig sees Montgomery's digital watch and suffers a fatal heart attack, Harrison dies one month later.

March 2007 - Montgomery (in tears) asks, "Why won't that jerk return my letters?" Captain America is then assassinated by Crossbones, at the behest of Red Skull. May he rest in peace...sniffle...

That's just a handful of examples. As you can see, I have a long history of cursing people who get on my bad side (must be my gypsy heritage). And I won't hesitate to put the hex on you, too. I can kill a yak from 200 yards away with the power of negative thinking, and I'm not the type to use my powers for good.

But I will use them for a profit! If you'd like me to jinx anybody, just let me know. I'll quote your price based on complexity of curse and type of target. I can even keep using my old business cards. I just need to change one word...

Montgomery Road - ~~Bedazzling~~ Bedeviling your enemies since 2007.

MvP

2007-03-26T08:33:00.000-07:00

If you’ve been reading this blog for an appreciable amount of time, you know that my five greatest fears are as follows:

1. Zombies
2. Robots
3. Aliens
4. Heights
5. Abe Vigoda

Although number five probably shouldn’t count, seeing as how it is a combination of numbers 1-3, with a hint of 4.

The way I figure it, the best way to face your fears is by preparing to face them with days worth of planning and tens of thousands of dollars in expensive products. I’ve had books describing the proper response to zombie and robot attacks for a while now, and “heights” isn’t the kind of thing you can combat…except maybe by living underground. But I'm in no mood to deal with the mole people - they know why. And if Abe Vigoda has your number, you’re screwed no matter what you do.

Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to come up with plan of action in case of alien invasion. Unless you consider “hiding under a pile of socks” a plan of action. So you can imagine how excited I was to see the following book being published:

To Catch a Predator, by Chris Hansen

Sure it’s only one species of alien, but it’s nigh impossible to have an attack plan that covers every species of alien. So this book is a good start.

I’ve seen those documentaries by Carl Weathers and Danny Glover dozens of times, but they were woefully lacking in descriptive details about strategy. I tried calling Carl Weathers, but he just said “It was a movie, kid.” And now he’s hanging out at my house asking for food and he won’t go away. If you’re reading this, Carl, you need to leave. Please! It’s hard to poop with you standing there.

So I buy the book and what do I discover? Almost no help in catching predators! Talk about your false advertising! How am I supposed to steal its technology if I can't even catch it? Here’s a brief list of things that should have been in the book, but weren’t:

1. Predator anatomy and physiology
2. Predator technology
3. Predator attack methods
4. Predator defense strategy
5. Predator weaknesses
6. Predator prevention
7. Methods of avoiding predator vision
8. How to get Carl Weathers out of your damn house

But I didn’t get any of those things. Chris Hansen…you’re on notice!

So what is the book actually about? Using the internets to get pedophiles to come to your house. Man…you can order anything on the internets!

How does this help me, Chris? Huh? Tell me that! Who actually wants pedophiles at their house? What am I going to do with them? I’ve already got Carl Weathers there, I don’t need a bunch of freaky sex perverts asking for Eggs Benedict, too.

Although I guess they could be useful. I could use them as predator bait. With the predator distracted by my cadre of weirdos, I could slip out the back (exactly the opposite of what the pedophiles wanted to do). Also, they might be willing to help out around the house before and/or after the predator attack, unlike that lazy Carl Weathers. Yeah, I know you’re reading this. Just leave! If you don’t, I’ll sick my pack of sickos on you! Try asking them for food – all they’ll give you is sausage!

That’s actually a good idea. I’ll use what I’ve learned from “To Catch a Predator” to form a gang of pedophiles, then order my gang to bully Carl Weathers out of my house. Then call the cops and get all the pedophiles arrested. Problems solved!

So I’m sorry, Chris Hansen. You’re no longer on notice. Sure your book didn’t solve my predator problem, but it did solve my Carl Weathers problem, which is just as good. You’re welcome at my house any time, Mr. Hansen. We’ll have tea. I’ve got a well-trained staff of pervert waiters ready to serve us. Just don’t bring your kids.

Let's get out of here before one of those things kills Guy!

2007-03-19T07:58:00.000-07:00

Blargh. Blargh! Blargh, I say! Today I'm down with the sickness, so I'm not feeling particularly creative. So I've decided to hit you with a blast from the past.

Last August, I decided to do something completely random. I know, I know - everything I do is completely random. But I was more random than usual this time. I decided to keep track of the number of students wearing red shirts in my class. I later decided to expand this to red, orange and yellow shirts for variety.

The Rules
1. Fellow students could not become aware of my research, or the results would be skewed.
1a. The one exception is D-Rock. He was my helper. Plus, his shirt is normally too filthy to determine color.
1b. I shouldn't count myself.
2. It had to be done early, before basketball season caused a jump in red shirt popularity.
3. Mixed color shirts would be classified based on the dominant color.

The Data

Analysis
I entered this experiment expecting a completely random distribution of data, and this was true for orange and yelow shirts. But much to my surprise, a distinct pattern emerged in the red shirt population. Over the 4-week study period, the number of students wearing red shirts peaked every Wednesday. It was very bizarre. Like clockwork, I could expect a peak in red shirts on Wednesdays. It was like everybody got together without me and decided to make Wednesday the official Red Shirt Day.

Discussion
What does this mean? Several things. First, there's probably some kind of conspiracy going on. The Wednesday Red Shirt brigade probably knows something about Lincoln's Gold, and I aim to find out what. Second, if a terrorist plans to attack our medical school by releasing a bull or herd of bulls into the building, Wednesday is the day to do it for the greatest amount of damage. But be warned, terrorists! Your plan will fail. I've had anti-Bull countermeasures in place since November '05. Third, we have the least number of students eligible for gameplay on Wednesdays

Finally, and most importantly, if the class of '09 is ever assigned to a dangerous mission on a foreign planet, we'll suffer the greatest losses if the mission occurs on a Wednesday (see the research of Roddenberry et al). On the plus side, I stand the greatest chance of survival on that day. Unfortunately, a Monday mission means I'll totally get murdered by Armus on Varga II. I hate mondays...

Further Research
Changes I would make during future research:
1. Keep track of all shirt colors, including blue, green, and fuchsia.
2. Keep track of class attendance, to get a per capita shirt number.
3. Get paid for my research.
4. Kill Philip.
5. Grab Legal Counsel.
6. Go to the Winchester.
7. Have a nice cold pint and wait for all of this to blow over.

How's that for a slice of fried gold?

Alcohol and coffee beans

2007-03-09T06:15:00.000-07:00

100 minutes until my last test before Spring Break. So instead of an actual post, you get a fun music video from an awesome band.

"Dog Problems," by The Format.

Legal Counsel likes it because she thinks it's about her. I don't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

The brain?! Oh, dear god...

2007-03-06T14:36:00.000-07:00

In our microbiology test yesterday, I had a total brain fart. The question described a kid returning from a camping trip with all the classic signs of Lyme disease: migratory bullseye rash, fever, malaise, joint pain...pretty much every clinical indicator possible, which is totally how patients present in real life.

Immediately recognizing it as Lyme Disease, I prepared to mark that answer. But the question instead asked:

What is the cellular morphology of the organism causing this disease?
a. cocci
b. bacillus
c. spore
d. spirochete
e. Klein bottle

And I totally blanked. In retrospect, it was an extremely easy question. But my brain just wasn't working. Maybe it was the lack of sleep the night before or the 700mg of DMT coursing through my body, but I just couldn't think of it.

So I sat there and focused, trying to recall the answer. I mentally flipped through my notes: nothing. I thought back to lecture: nada. I scanned through the answers tattooed on my inner thigh: zilch. But then it hit me. I thought of a professor so talented that nobody can forget his teachings. A teacher so wise that all look upon him in amazement. A mentor so awe-inspiring that hundreds of millions of people have seen him speak. Who was this sophic sage?

Ralph Wiggum.

Season 2, Episode 7F19 - "Lisa's Substitute." Ms. Hoover contracts Lyme disease; Mr. Bergstrom (Dustin Hoffman) fills in as substitute teacher and touches Lisa...metaphorically of course, you sickos. Also, Bart runs for class president.

Why is this relevant? In the episode, a concerned Ralph Wiggum writes a letter to Ms. Hoover. It reads:

Dear Ms. Hoover: You have Lyme's Disease. We miss you. Kevin's biting me. Come back soon. Here's a drawing of a spirochete. Love, Ralph.

And thus my answer was chosen, all thanks to one Mr. Ralph Wiggum. D-Rock and I have been quoting that one all week, so thankfully it was fresh in my head.

So that novelty poster I bought was right: all I really need to know in life I learned from watching television.

The end.

And if you're curious: Ms. Hoover's Lyme disease was actually psychosomatic, and Bart lost the election because everybody who would have voted for him was too busy eating the cupcakes he brought.

...at least I hope it was Lyme disease.

You know they never did catch that anthrax guy.

2007-02-27T08:56:00.000-07:00

We had a lecture yesterday presented by Dr. Rancor*. Here she is:
The weird thing about the lecture is that Dr. Rancor seemed awfully concerned about Feline AIDS, even though it isn't a part of the class. She kept bringing it up! Wait a minute...

That's it! She's Debbie Downer! (played by Rachel Dratch)

You're enjoying your day
Everything's going your way
Then along comes Debbie Downer.
Always there to tell you 'bout a new disease
A car accident or killer bees
You'll beg her to spare you, "Debbie, Please!"
But you can't stop Debbie Downer!

She ended her lecture by saying, "Did you guys hear about that train explosion in North Korea? ...We may never know how many people perished." So depressing...

* nickname chosen based on name, not appearance or behavior

Dreamweaver

2007-02-26T07:51:00.000-07:00

It's midterm season, and as usual that probably means my blog will start suffering because of my studying. I'm sorry, Bloggy, you know I love you. And speaking of studying, I have three new reasons to hate the 4th Floor Frat Boys™: a. they don't flush 2. they don't wash their hands c. 311 ringtones at max volume. Listen up freaks, this isn't you parents' house. Show some respect.

Anyway...where was I? Right, studying. You see, that's what happens when I study, or even when I think about studying - I start to space out and lose my train of thought. I think it's a form of auto-hypnosis. So if you want to plant an idea in my head, just say "studying" then tell me what to do as soon as my eyes glaze over and roll into the back of my head. I probably shouldn't have told you my weakness.

So where do I go when I space out while studying? Wait...where was I? Right, daydreaming. Since I'm already in the medical thought process, I start imagining myself as a doctor. As a result, I've envisioned many things I'd like to accomplish in my medical career. And if I don't achieve them, I'll be filling a prescription for 50cc of tears. I don't think these desires are specific to me, either. I'm sure if you ask any doctor, they have the same goals in life*.

Without further ado, here is Montgomery's Big List of Doctor Dreams™:

Perform an emergency tracheotomy with a swiss army knife and a ballpoint pen.
Have somebody approach me complaining that, "it hurts when I do this." Respond with, "then don't do that."
Bite the cap off a syringe, then spit it on the floor.
Say, "Damn it, I'm a doctor not a _____."
- Preferably the blank will be filled in with "EOD technician" but I'll also settle for "marine biologist" or "sniper"
Save a life at Disneyland, get free admission for life.
Write a prescription for "1 ass-kicking" and hand it to somebody. Then have them look up after reading it only to see my fist immediately before it strikes their face.
Restart a heart...Fonzie style!
Be in a room when somebody says, "is there a doctor in the house?" Respond with "Dr. Montgomery, in da hizzouse!"
Own and operate a riverboat casino.
Save the life of somebody outside of work, then ask for a co-pay and charge their insurance company.
Perform an encephalectomy to cure a case of vigor mortis**
"I'm sorry, your husband has passed away. But we can rebuild him. We have the technology..."
Murder D-Rock
Get in an argument, then bust out a prescription pad and write a prescription for "a clue"
Clean and suture myself after #6 goes horribly wrong.
Treat the victims of a biochemical incident
- Probably one that I caused
Pull somebody from an overturned tanker truck, then carry them to safety and jump away in slow motion as the truck explodes
Get stranded on an island, then treat my fellow castaways with indigenous plants
- Also, kill that smoke monster
Slap the next person who asks me if I watch House
Stab an unruly patient with a syringe and inject them with sedative.
- Then draw a penis on their face while they're passed out

That's all for now, although I'm sure there are many, many more. It's time for me to get back to studying. Wait...where am I?

In other news, congratulations to Dr. Friedchicken on winning Best Director!

* not likely
** in layman's terms, a zombie

Legal Issues at the End of Life

2007-02-22T08:04:00.000-07:00

That was the name of our SBS lecture today, presented by the hospital's malpractice attorney. I'm going to be honest with you: she shares more than a passing resemblance with Ted from Scrubs. The more she talks, the more similar she becomes. Especially when she says things like,

And if you perform while under the influence... don't tell the patient. Unless they're dead, and in that case, if you're sure... very, very sure... you can tell them anything.

Still good advice, though.

The lecture itself is about, appropriately enough, legal issues at the end of life. How and when can you terminate care? Which takes precedence: medical power of attorney, living will, or Cobra Commander? For how many days must a person be in a coma or persistent vegetative state before they are fair game for Republicans to use as a political tool? Are we allowed to use comatose or vegetative patients to stage a life-size puppet show? If the patient becomes awake and responsive with nobody around, is the doctor allowed to play along as the patient fakes coma so they can jump up and scare their friends and family?

But there's one big issue that wasn't addressed: zombies. Technically, the "end of life" can be the "beginning of undeath" under the right circumstances. And she didn't even mention that scenario. Our medical education is severely lacking, and our apocalypse preparedness is almost non-existent (some anti-werewolf training, brief mention of alien assault). When will they start teaching us skills we can actually use?

This was the perfect time to learn about the legality of all things zombie, and I'm still full of questions. Chief among them:

If a person presents with a zombie bite, is it legal to kill them before they turn?
- What if you're only 50% sure it was a zombie bite?
- 20% sure?
- What if there's no reason to believe zombies were even present, but I don't want to take the chance?
If they've already turned into a zombie, is it legal to kill them in self defense?
- What if they've turned, but they're fully restrained?
- What if they've turned, but they have no teeth or nails?
If a patient is minutes from death, is it legal to intentionally infect them with the zombie virus to keep them "alive" in the hopes that a cure for both zombie-ism and their underlying disease will be discovered some time in the future?
- Same scenario, but you're infecting them for research purposes.
If I'm the attending physician, can I send a resident into the room of a zombified patient because I'm afraid to go in?
- Can I "forget" to tell the resident that the patient is a zombie, to see how well they think on their feet?
Does Arizona law recommend one method of dispatching zombies over others?
If the hospital is surrounded by zombies, but I'm safely barricaded inside with staff and patients, can I kill myself knowing full well that my fate is sealed, and that I don't want to become one of "those damned monsters?"
- Can I euthanize patients out of mercy?
- If somebody snaps and tries to escape, can I incapacitate and/or kill them to prevent zombies from getting in?
When will the government just admit it's been experimenting with zombies in the desert outside Tortolita, AZ since 1981 in a project code-named MKROMER?
Am I obligated to make a "reasonable effort" to sever the head, which would stop the zombie while still keeping it alive?
Are zombies protected by the Americans with Disabilities Act?

So many questions, so few answers. I bet that Jamaican medical school would have taught this material...mon. And I've heard that Harvard has an entire block dedicated to the living dead, including zombies, vampires, ghosts, poltergeists and even rusalki. Can you believe that?? A medical school teaching the biology and psychology of a rusalka? They're years ahead of everybody else!

Here's hoping history repeats itself

2007-02-21T07:53:00.000-07:00

This......is a moustache cup.

In Victorian England, moustaches were all the rage. Unfortunately, that wonderful facial fitment brought with it great difficulty in drinking. The wax used to keep the curls in their proper shape would often melt and drip into hot drinks. And it goes without saying that certain drinks can stain the old soup-strainer. It's a hard knock life, for moustaches.

To combat these problems, an Englishman named Harvey Adams invented the moustache cup in 1830. The cup has a "moustache guard" along its edge to protect your valuable follicular investment. The guard would cradle and comfort your nose neighbor whilst you enjoyed a nice tall glass of laudanum.

There is nothing I don't like about the previous two paragraphs. Victorian England seems like an awesome place to live. Let's look at the facts.

Moustaches were popular.
- Especially moustaches with curls
It was socially acceptable to wax the aforementioned moustache.
Your moustache could be long enough that it would dip into your beverage stream.
They were tough enough to drink beverages at a temperature sufficient to melt wax at a distance of several millimeters.
The country was evidently full of inventive problem solvers...with moustaches.
Not only was it acceptable for an adult to drink from a sippy cup, it was fashionable.
mmm...laudanum.
Three words: waxed. curled. moustaches.

I was born 180 years too late. Until I finish my time machine (current status: alarm clock taped to a golf club), I'll have to make do with what we've got.Col. Ichabod Conk Products® makes a modern replica of the Victorian favorite...or should I say favourite. Although twenty dollars is a lot to cough up for a mug, even if it does have a seat for Mr. Tickles. Maybe I'll go with the great great great great great grandchild of Mr. Adams original:Although four dollars is a lot to pay for a plastic cup, even if it does protect the old push broom. I guess I'll just go mug a toddler.

No pun intended.

Afterthought: would Starbucks serve me a latte in a sippy cup?

PS - Ah Jota wants my nickname to be "Conejo." Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Conan the Librarian

2007-02-20T08:05:00.000-07:00

An open letter to the fraternity boys and sorority girls roosting on the 4th floor of the library

Dear sirs and/or madams (I use this term fully aware of its alternate meaning)

Let me begin by saying that you all deserve a little credit. Based on your intelligence, behavior and sometimes even appearance, I can tell that the first bar you ever visited was your mother's uterus - the beginning of a long, proud history of drinking. So the fact that you've made it this far is admirable. Bravo. That being said, let me just tell you that I wish you would all stumble across a mysterious black slime that you would each take turns touching, even after seeing everybody before you melt upon touching it.

I understand that you need to make it look like you care about academics. For the boys, I'm sure your dad required that you get a cumulative GPA of 2.0 or better before he lets you work at his car dealership in Encino. For the girls, you're probably just using the boys until you are discovered dancing half-naked on top of a bar and your acting/modeling careers take off. But why, for the love of god, do you have to do it at the health sciences library??

Sorry, got a little carried away. I'm fully aware why you use this library: it's closest to the frat houses, and you probably just walk here drunk and/or high. Who am I kidding? You probably just drive here drunk and/or high. But if you're going to eat at the grown up table, you need to act like an adult. And don't bother pointing out the irony of Montgomery telling somebody to act like an adult, I'm fully aware.

Let's begin with the most simple common courtesy: being quiet in a library. I can hear your conversations about theme parties and the price of penicillin across the entire fourth floor. And when you're making out it sounds like a drunken Frenchman slapping two soggy fish together. Alls I'm saying is, "shut your filthy Neisseria gonorrhoeae colonized mouths." I'm not unreasonable - I understand that conversations will happen when "studying" with friends. but please try to keep it to a dull roar. And limit the tonsil hockey to IHL.

I think I know why you are so loud. Upon claiming a table, you invariably spread out and collect every rolling whiteboard in the place to construct a little fort, which you apparently believe to be soundproof. I have to admit to being more than a little jealous here. Ever since the library constructed its modular design on the fourth floor, I've had dreams of playing with it too. Between you and me, I'd like to use the whiteboards to construct a labyrinth. Then I'd don a (hopefully) fake bull head and chase down hapless grad students. Thesis and the Minotaur...I like it.

But I don't do that, no matter how much I want to. How very, very much I want to. Why? I'm trying to be respectful of other people, a concept you probably haven't been taught yet. Your fort isn't soundproof, and some people actually use the whiteboards for writing. Strange concept, I know. Also, people can see between the whiteboards - it's not Fort Knox. So when you boys are playing slap-and-tickle, everybody can see it. Including the creepy old guy who always goes to the bathroom after watching you semi-grope each other. So next time you visit our fine establishment, try just using a table.

For once in your lives, try being respectful. Act in a manner appropriate for a library. Study quietly on the fourth floor, then when you need a break go down to the third floor and play Indiana Jones with the compact shelving. Like an adult.

Hugs and Kisses,
Montgomery

Montgomery Music Magic

2007-02-19T07:52:00.000-07:00

I may not be a member of the Recording Industry Association of America (NAMBLA), but I knows what I likes and what I doesn't. Let's get this dance party a-dancin'.

Breaking Wind
Legal Counsel brought this one to my attention. Currently on the radio is a cover of "She's Like the Wind," a song written and sung by Patrick Swayze for the movie Dirty Dancing. In case you're wondering, Legal Counsel knew this because she is the president and founding member of the "Swayziacs," the largest Patrick Swayze fan club in North America. I have to say North America because PatSwa still has a pretty big following in North Korea, thanks in large part to the efforts of one mister Kim Jong-il.

Anyway, the cover version is sung by Lumidee featuring Tony Sunshine. No offense to those two, but you know it's a sad state of affairs when people find themselves longing for the dulcet tones of Patrick Swayze. But nice try, gents. On the plus side, "Tony Sunshine" sounds like the name of a lounge singer and/or pimp. Which is nice.

Nerd Words
My current favorite artist is Jonathan Coulton. If you've never heard of him just picture a nerdier, one-man version of They Might Be Giants. That's right, an even nerdier version of They Might Be Giants. And you didn't think that was possible. Tsk tsk...

I've had his song "Ikea" on my computer for a long time, then I rediscovered him after searching for "Baby Got Back" on iTunes. Don't judge me for looking for Sir Mix-A-Lot - I'm just trying to create an autobiographical mix CD. Anyway, I found Mr. Coulton and here are some of my favorite songs

Skullcrusher Mountain - A love song by an evil villain to a captured prisoner, even though he's way too smart for her. Favorite expression of love:

I made this half-pony half-monkey monster to please you
But I get the feeling that you don’t like it
What’s with all the screaming?
You like monkeys, you like ponies
Maybe you don’t like monsters so much
Maybe I used too many monkeys
Isn’t it enough to know that I ruined a pony making a gift for you?

Re: your brains - A song from Bob to his coworker Tom. Bob has become a zombie and wants to eat Tom's brains. Favorite line: "I'm not a monster, Tom. Well, technically I am."

Chiron Beta Prime - A christmas card sung by the Andersons, who have been banished to an asteroid by the robot council. Favorite Christmas Greeting: "Merry Christmas from Chiron Beta Prime, where we’re working in a mine for our robot overlords. Did I say overlords? I meant protectors."

The Presidents - A rather informative jingle about all the American presidents. Favorite rapid presidential summary:

Arthur suspended Chinese immigration
Cleveland made the railroad people squirm
Harrison signed the Sherman Anti-Trust Act
Then Grover Cleveland served another term

So you can see why i like him. The songs are wicked fun, and one of them even tickles my zombie bone. That sounded kinda dirty...

Guilty Pleasure
Heroin.

Just kidding. It's actually "This is the Way I Live" by Baby Boy. I know that as a pigment challenged, engineering degree holding nerd I'm not normally allowed to listen to rap, hip-hop or even trip-hop. The only exceptions are probably MC Plus+, MC Squared, MC Chris, MC Hammer and Mc Donalds. But in this case I'm willing to break the rules.

I really like this song. Maybe because he isn't singing about abusing women, killing people or using drugs. Although I'll admit that I haven't listened to all the lyrics, so he very well could be. He instead prefers to sing about he "stacks [his] money, lay[s] low, and chill[s]."

Plus, he rides "fly with D-Wizzle in 'cedes Benz," which as you all know is one of my favorite hobbies. Although he says he's got a "two seater ride with the ketchup inside." I'd never allow ketchup in my vehicle. But he makes up for it by advocating Red Bull and Grey Goose. I too enjoy mixing animal themed drinks! Mmm....Wild Turkey and Moosehead...

But best of all, he advocates adults riding Big Wheels! I thought i was the only one! (Montgomery doesn't realize that when Baby Boy says "Lil' Boy still pushin' Big Wheels," he isn't actually referring to an adult riding a Big Wheel)

Pathologic Uterus Look-a-Like o' the Day

2007-02-16T09:25:00.000-07:00

Today in path we learned about endometriosis:

You might recognize endometriosis from its starring role as Birdo, Super Mario Brothers 2 villain.

Or if you prefer, the Octorok from The Legend of Zelda.

High Times

2007-02-16T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'm a fan of highlighting. I'm even a member of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloring Text (NAMBLA). Highlighting allows all the fun of turning something yellow without the hassle of being yelled at for peeing on stuff. Which reminds me of the main drawback of highlighting: if somebody pees on your notes, all your highlighting efforts are ruined. And my notes get peed on...a lot. In a cruel twist of fate, yellow highlighter is the exact same color as hobo urine. I tried using orange highlighter, but that damn hobo started popping pyridium and returned to his old antics. Damn you, hobo, I didn't steal your bindle!

The other big problem with highlighting is that I don't know how to do it. In my first attempt, I tried one of those Sharpie highlighters. It just made it really difficult to read the important stuff. And even after discovering those clear yellow ones, the majority of my efforts contribute nothing to the notes.

But I'm comforted by the fact that nobody else seems to know how to highlight either. Allow me to demonstrate with the following example paragraph:

EPEC initially attach to enterocytes utilizing pili of the BFP type to form clustered microcolonies on the enterocyte cell surface. The lesion then progresses with effacement of the microvilli and changes in the cell morphology including the production of dramatic "pedestals" with these EPEC bacterium at their apex. The combination of these actions is called the attachment and effacing (A/E) lesion.

The "I don't understand the concept of highlighting"
This is by far the most popular style. This student likes to highlight everything. Everything. Paragraphs, headings, page numbers, professor names, their own face. Here's an example:

EPEC initially attach to enterocytes utilizing pili of the BFP type to form clustered microcolonies on the enterocyte cell surface. The lesion then progresses with effacement of the microvilli and changes in the cell morphology including the production of dramatic "pedestals" with these EPEC bacterium at their apex. The combination of these actions is called the attachment and effacing (A/E) lesion.

So what you end up with is a blinding block of highlighter die. Completely useless. If they're using a blue highlighter, it looks like D-Rock's mom's bed under a blacklight.

The "Ed Chapman"
This is a variation on our first method. but this student, being an artist at heart, prefers to use random colors changing at random parts of the sentence.

EPEC initially attach to enterocytes utilizing pili of the BFP type to form clustered microcolonies on the enterocyte cell surface. The lesion then progresses with effacement of the microvilli and changes in the cell morphology including the production of dramatic "pedestals" with these EPEC bacterium at their apex. The combination of these actions is called the attachment and effacing (A/E) lesion.

It's really quite beautiful. Can I frame your notes and hang them on my wall?

The "Redundant Highlight"
This person thinks the most important sections of notes are the ones that are bolded or italicized, so that's what they highlight.

EPEC initially attach to enterocytes utilizing pili of the BFP type to form clustered microcolonies on the enterocyte cell surface. The lesion then progresses with effacement of the microvilli and changes in the cell morphology including the production of dramatic "pedestals" with these EPEC bacterium at their apex. The combination of these actions is called the attachment and effacing (A/E) lesion.

Obviously they don't realize that being bold in the first place already draws your attention. But on the plus side, it gives me the freedom to completely ignore everything else in my notes, including explnations of the bold/italics/highlighted stuff. Take that, knowledge!

The "did I actually do that right?"
Probably the only useful method. This person actually picks the important stuff and highlights it. What a concept!

EPEC initially attach to enterocytes utilizing pili of the BFP type to form clustered microcolonies on the enterocyte cell surface. The lesion then progresses with effacement of the microvilli and changes in the cell morphology including the production of dramatic "pedestals" with these EPEC bacterium at their apex. The combination of these actions is called the attachment and effacing (A/E) lesion.

Of course, this is very difficult to do since the notes they give us are already the hgihlights of a lecture. If you highlight a highlight, it goes back to normal.

The "I need help"
Usually I'll be studying and I'll space out for 5-10 minutes. When I wake up, I'll get this pattern. This is from a random page, not the sample paragraph, with unhighlighted text removed.

Theodor Escherich...is going...to rise from...the...dead...and he...will kill...you...Burn...down the...school...to stop...him.

This happens to me all the time when I'm highlighting, but it's totally normal right guys? Right? Hello?

That's all the styles that I can think of off the top of my head. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time for somebody to stop undead Escherich (E. zombi). And that somebody is me.

VD

2007-02-14T07:51:00.000-07:00

It's completely gray (or grey, if you prefer The Queen's English) outside, it's raining and we're learning about diseased vaginas in pathology and the cause of UTIs in micro lab. That can mean only one thing...it's ~~Arizona's Birthday~~ Valentine's Day!

I got Legal Counsel a box of Lucky Charms with the stars, horseshoes, clovers, blue moons, pots of gold, rainbows, and red balloons picked out...and eaten...by me. Some people might say I got her an almost empty box of cereal. But others will say I got her a box of candy hearts, which is romantic and sweet.

Well it turns out Legal Counsel falls into the first group. And she extinguished an entire box of fireplace matches one by one on my forearm to make sure that I never forget.

There are a lot of people out there who say that Valentine's Day is a fake holiday designed only to make people spend their money. These are miserable people and they probably always will be. Valentine's Day is an excuse to have fun, whether you're in a relationship or just celebrating with friends. And here's where it came from, courtesy of Wikipedia.

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Valentine's Day began in ancient Rome as Lupercalia, celebrated on February 15. Priests of the Luperci cult (who worshipped the wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus) would go to Lupercal (the cave where the wolf lived) and sacrifice two goats and a dog. The blood was then scattered in the streets to bring fertility and ward off wolves (which is ironic). If that's not romance, I don't know what is. Further, boys would draw girls' names from a box in honor of the goddess of sex and fertility (for unstated reasons, wink) in the festival of Juno Februata. Also

many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that the pregnant will thus be helped in delivery, and the barren to pregnancy.

Very sexy. No wonder "romance" comes from the Latin romanice meaning "in the Roman manner".

The Romans had a really kick-ass religion with tons of gods, lots of cool stories and freaky rituals. But they soon started getting brainwashed by christians, who have one god, depressing/judgemental stories and freaky rituals. So in 496, in an attempt to be rid of pagan beliefs, Lupercalia was replaced by the Feast of St. Valentine.

St. Valentine was a martyr who was imprisoned for aiding other martyrs in prison*. He converted his jailer by restoring sight to the jailer's blind daughter. Then he was tortured and beheaded...just like every other martyr. Zzzzzz.... Oh, sorry. Nodded off their for a second. Damn you, (comparatively) boring catholic mythology!

Let me think...killing animals, sprinkling blood, naked people hitting you with thongs, pulling names from hats OR some dude that got killed for helping other dudes. Ancient Rome 1, Modern Rome 0.

For your information, St. Valentine is the patron saint of the following things (among others): bee keepers, epilepsy, fainting, greeting card manufacturers, and plague. That's actually pretty cool, I must admit.

On Valentine's Day 1349, ~2000 Jews were burned to death by christians because the christians owed the jews money, so they blamed them for poisoning wells and killed them. Love, exciting and new....

The first association of Valentine's Day with love was by Geoffrey Chaucer (aka Paul Bettany) in 1382, when he said

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese [chose] his make [mate].

Chaucer is famous for his poor spelling. But you guys probably know him as the guy what helped Heath Ledger win over Shannyn Sossamon in A Knight's Tale. Uncultured bastards...

The French established the "High Court of Love" on Valentine's Day 1400. That's when French kissing was invented, just so it could be made illegal.

The oldest surviving Valentine was written in 1415 by Charles, Duke of Orleans to his wife, while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London. It read, "Roses are red / Violets are blue / For the love of god / Please don't let them cut my head off."

In the following years, it started to become more about romance and less about religion. Such is the fate of all things. Which brings us to modern times when, in 1969, the Church removed St. Valentines Day from its official calendar. February 14 is now dedicated to Saints Cyril and Methodius. These brothers went to Russia to convert Jewish Khazar, in both religion and language. And I'm sleepy again...

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So when you start badmouthing VD for being too commercial, just take a minute to consider its proud history of killing animals, hitting people with thongs, bee keepers, killing jews, Slavic languages and of course, love.

* Obviously this aid must have taken place before any of them actually became martyrs. Unless...ALTERNATE HISTORY...St. Valentine and ten other martyrs were killed and put in the Containment Unit (ghost prison) by the Ghostbusters. St. Valentine was removed from the Containment Unit for helping the other ghosts, at which point he was exorcised by Otho from Beetle Juice, using "The Handbook for the Recently Deceased." That's actually a pretty awesome story. I really should write a history book...

Huzzah!

2007-02-13T08:56:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to the Renaissance Festival with Legal Counsel, Wolverine and Lemon. Larkitect and Orange were going to join in the merriment, but they Frenched out at the last minute. You're both on notice!

Here's a picture of me in the process of devouring a turkey leg (or "turkey legg" as they spell it).

I'm like a starving vulture!

If you've never been, let me tell you that the Renaissance Festival is a lot of fun. But it always leaves me full of questions. Why does the festival attract so many obese people? Why so many redheads? (Legal Counsel's theory: it's the only place either group feels comfortable, even though redheads were burned as vampires back then) Why was there a guy dressed as an Ent? What kind of person devotes their life to recreating the Renaissance? How can I become that kind of person? Why was there a booth for talking to Einstein? Did I really have to let the king have his way with me? In hindsight I'm not sure he has any real power, and I wouldn't have been executed for saying "no." Who let the gypsies in?

But the biggest question I left with this year: will people 500 years from now have 20th Century Festivals? The 20th century was a pretty crazy time, so I wouldn't be surprised if it became a new focus for the Society for Creative Anachronisms (NAMBLA). Two world wars (which won't even compare to the 23rd century Galaxy Wars), scientific breakthroughs (which will be invalid by the 25th century), civil rights (race will be gone by then, replaced by "Antenna Discrimination"), Vanilla Ice, the Great Depression, Fraggle Rock...the list goes on and on.

So here's my view of how these 20th Century Festivals (20CF) will look, complete with historical inaccuracies and mistakes:

The Joust
The joust is a staple of the RenFest; four knights (Britain, Northern Isles, Spain and France) all ride horses and battle each other. At the 20CF, this will be slightly changed. Actors impersonating Hitler, Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin will ride Segways around an arena and fire muskets at each other. Hitler and Stalin will be allies despite the fact that they were enemies in the real world, but it's easier to have two good and two evil. Also, it will be Teddy Roosevelt instead of FDR. They'll be battling for the favor of Kaiser Wilhelm.

The Food
There's no doubt in my mind that people in the Renaissance ate turkey leggs, roasted corn, Steak on a Stake, and fried chicken while drinking mead, frozen margaritas and soda. To emulate our time, the 20CF will serve 5 pound hamburgers, Upton Sinclair's Canned Meats, (artificial) Dodo nuggets, gallon jugs of soda, cheap beer and bottlede heavy water. And it will all be infused with trans fats. It'll be a nice break from getting all your nutrients from pills and photosynthesis.

The Clothes
Most people at the 20CF will stay in their normal clothes - shiny-silver mylar jumpsuits and rocket boots. But those who want to get into character will wear 20th century clothes: JNCO jeans with polyester jackets, zoot suits with baseball hats, leg warmers with Fubu shirts, wool trousers with a "Frankie Says Relax" shirt. You get the idea.

The Beggar
The RenFest always had an amusingly silly street beggar. The 20CF will have an actor portraying a 20th Century homeless person. Baking a can of beans over a fire, carrying a bindle, singing songs for pocket change and sharing their wisdom with youngsters who will listen. You know, a completely accurate portrayal.

The Music
Wandering minstrels will be replaced with urban youths (probably in blackface because racism is cyclical, and because blackface occurred in the 20th Century) carrying around boomboxes and freestyle rapping. But people will be swing dancing to the music, ruining any semblance of accuracy.

The Contests
Archery contests and sword fights will be replaced by gun fights and...spear battles. We fought with spears in the last century, right?

The Jugglers
Jugglers will still be there. Juggling will always be cool.

The Village Idiot
George W Bush.

The Renaissance Festival
There will actually be a Renaissance Festival occurring within the 20CF, to demonstrate what we did for fun. There will also be a Dark Ages Festival within the Renaissance Festival within the 20th Century Festival. Trippy...

I can't wait for the future, so I can attempt to relive the past. It'll be awesome.