Sometimes you can find the profound in the least likely places… like the Sunday comics section. Here are two gems from this past weekend:
I’d rather “marvel” at SolarPower Man and WindWoman.
You got that right, comic strip Pig! And the best way to get that love is to give it.
Love you!
[Pearls Before Swine and Wumo are available on GoComics.com.]
This person is breaking the rules:
“The first rule of Colonoscopy Club is: we don’t talk about Colonoscopy Club.”
I’m in favor of getting recommendations for good medical care, but I don’t know that asking a bunch of strangers (albeit “neighbors”) on NextDoor is the right way to go about it. It’s like checking out at the grocery store and having the cashier get on the P.A. saying “I need a price check on Preparation H on Lane 3!”
I suppose what I’m saying is word-of-mouth may not be as relevant when we’re talking about a doc who is sticking a camera pretty far away from your mouth.
Not to mention that you’ll probably only see your doc for about 5 seconds before the sedation meds kick in… and you won’t remember talking to him/her afterwards.
My recommendations for a colonoscopy:
I’d like to think that the part of town in which I live, Mt. Washington, isn’t hillbilly. But then I’m confronted with the harsh reality: a guy on a riding mower at the Wendy’s drive-thru.
I don’t think he understands the concept of “grass-fed beef.”
Maybe he’s trying to “cut” his caloric intake.
He’s been waiting for his order for a few minutes, but it won’t be “lawn” now.
He wants “mower” ketchup packets for his fries.
In my dotage, I’ve become “that guy”…
OK, I haven’t taken to yelling at clouds yet, but I DID write to the City of Cincinnati to school them on the many benefits of the “zipper merge” when they had traffic barrels set up on the road I take to work.
(Sidebar: the Zipper Merge deserves its own post… study up here.)
And I used the Fix it Cincy! app on my phone to complain about the sinkhole forming near a drain on the baseball fields near our house. Because if someone were walking there after dark, they could break a leg. And not in the Broadway sense.
And I also used the Fix it Cincy! app to get a Grand Canyon-sized pothole filled on a busy street near our house.
I sent in my request on a Thursday night, and the pothole was repaired by Monday afternoon. (And yes, I filled out the feedback survey to let them know I appreciated their prompt response – I can do compliments just as well as complaints.)
You can’t fight City Hall. But you can ask them to be wise stewards of your tax dollars, and fix what needs to be fixed. And if you don’t reach out, you’ve got no right to complain. But feel free to yell at clouds all you want.
Happy Mother’s Day!
I’m late to the game on this podcast (sorry, I lead a sheltered life), but Valley Heat is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.
It’s like A Confederacy of Dunces meets Arrested Development meets Fernwood 2 Night…. Doug’s deadpan delivery, a wacky cast of characters, fun music references, the bogus promo spots, and great theater-of-the-mind audio all combine to create a perfect storm of humor. Every element is note-perfect!
It’s a bit tough to explain because the folks responsible for the podcast have created a whole wacky world within a Burbank, California neighborhood. Tosthe protagonist, Doug, ostensibly is trying to crack the case of who is using his garbage can as a drug drop. But really that’s just a doorway to all sorts of shenanigans involving an accident-prone attorney, a house that’s also a nightclub/arcade/pizza parlor/car wash, a mean father-in-law (who also runs a muffler empire), a DEA agent who does stakeouts with his mom, legendary frisbee golf players, mean foosball players, Jan that Movie (listen to learn), and a weaselly optometrist. Speaking of which, here’s Doug talking about his teenage son, who was prescribed transition lenses:
Or my buddy Howard:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have some Jannie Cakes for breakfast…
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