Category Archives: Farce

Planning Ahead

Given ALL that’s going on right now, you know, that whole “worst case it’s the end of the world” sort of thing, it’s often a serious roller coaster of emotions. It’s also tough to tell when you’ve come up with a truly funny idea or if you’re just borderline hysterical. (And about to slip over the border.)

Tonight, talking to a dear friend (as opposed to a “deaf rriend”) on social media I mentioned the new NEJM ethical guidelines that came out today. In short, when this COVID shit hits the proverbial health care fan in a few days (see Italy and Spain for example) there are going to be X number of ICU beds and respirators and X*Y dying patients, where Y could be a very, very large number.

It’s called “triage” and it means that the doctors and nurses will literally have to decide on the spot who lives and who dies. You. Can’t. Save. Everyone. So you have to figure out how to best utilize your available resources (time, ICU beds, respirators, drugs, medications) to save as many as possible as efficiently as possible.

It’s horrible. It’s not fair. It’s obscene. And it’s coming soon to an emergency room near you.

Having reached a certain middle age, I’m in a gray area at best when those decisions get made. To be blunt, if I’m a 64 year old with grown kids and I’m in a bed next to an otherwise healthy 24 year old who has young kids, the 24 year old is going to get a respirator and I’m going to get morphine to make me feel better, or not care.

(Time to really hop on that old hand washing routine with some enthusiasm, eh?!)

These thoughts and discussions in turn lead to filling out advance directives “just in case.”

So my thought was, “Where’s the box that says ‘either give me a fucking respirator and drugs or aerosolize me and spritz me into the HVAC system at the White House’?”

Maybe it’s the word “spritz.” Maybe it’s just been a really long couple of days. But that line is hilarious!

I’m not planning on going anywhere. But if I get dragged off by fate, I’m going to go kicking, screaming, and (hopefully) laughing. And wishing I could take a few of those evil GOP MFers with me.

No more fucks to give.

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Filed under CoronaVirus, Farce, Health, Politics

A Symptom

There is much that ails us as a society. There are many diseases, both literal and figurative, that rot us from the core.

I ran across something that I see not as one of those diseases, but merely a symptom. I don’t know how to solve it.

Charity auction, among the items are concert tickets with meet & greets with the artists.

When the winning bid on the Jonas Brothers concert is almost ten times the winning bid on the Incubus concert, we might not deserve to survive.

Just sayin’.

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Filed under Farce, Music

Penalty Flag

I found this on the floor behind the desk in my office this morning.

A dropped cleaning rag from the night crew? NAH! It’s yellow, that’s a penalty flag!

But what did I do?

Illegal motion? The only motion I wanted last night was to go home, and there’s nothing illegal about that!

Illegal procedure? I’ll have you know that my accounting records are 100%, strictly above board!

Holding? Um, not in the office, thanks. Nothing good can come of that in the long run.

Illegal touching? My favorite penalty – but see “Holding,” above. Besides, the best touching is always consensual, not illegal. (Remember kids, don’t settle for consent – hold out for enthusiasm!)

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Filed under Farce, Photography

I, For One, Welcome Our AI Overlords…

Some time late last week, while sitting on my ass and perusing the internet as is my wont when I’m trying to unwind a bit, I had a question enter my mind about the weather for Saturday when I would be out at the CAF hangar in Camarillo.

Being a savvy, hip, handsome, intelligent, completely not full of shit, modern sort of guy, I said, “Siri, what’s the forecast for tomorrow’s weather in Camarillo, California?”

Simple, eh?

Until my phone, my iPad, and my watch ALL ANSWERED AT THE SAME TIME.

And all had slightly different answers.

I’m really, really looking forward to when they start arguing among themselves about those different answers.

When it gets to physical violence, or trying to infect each other with computer viruses in retaliation, then I’m turning them all off and moving to a cave in Alberta that’s 100 miles from the nearest cell phone tower.

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Filed under Computers, Farce

Red Vines

This is on our kitchen counter and caught the attention of my psychotic brain:

It’s the “Original Red” label that made my brain go “ping!”

Are there Red Vines® that aren’t red?

If so, are they still “Red Vines,” or are they just “Red Vines®”?

If the latter, are they allowed to vote or make campaign contributions under Citizens United?

Is this the new Red Menace?

Should I have had that Ace Pineapple Hard Cider® before writing this? It probably made much more sense then…

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Filed under Farce, Paul

The Great Ketchup Debacle Of 2018

There’s a great little local restaurant where we have breakfast on most Sunday mornings before we do our weekly grocery shopping. We’re regulars there, been going for years, the seven or eight waiters and waitresses know us. I’m also boring and order the same thing about 99% of the time. My usual is a club sandwich with steak fries and a Diet Coke.

This morning our wonderful and friendly waitress Connie brought a brand new, never before opened bottle of ketchup out of some refrigerator. By the time I got around to opening it there was a sheen of condensation on it from the humidity. I wiped it dry with my napkin to get a good grip on it and twisted the top off.

Well, at least that was the plan.

This bottle top was having none of that. No joy. No motion on the twist-off cap. No ketchup.

I tried the other hand. Same results.

I wiped it off again, switched back to the first hand, concentrated, leaned into it. The ketchup reward would be mine!

Nada.

Okay, I’m serious now! Another wipe to make sure it wasn’t slipping, back to the right hand, think THROUGH the lid and VISUALIZE it coming loose…

I’m told I turned about the same color as the ketchup with my effort – but the lid never budged.

By this point Connie was back, asking if everything was okay. I gave her the ketchup bottle and politely asked for one that I could open.

She gave me a curious look, took the bottle, and twisted the top off in one motion.

People at adjoining tables guffawed and chortled.

Connie did a fist pumping victory dance in aisle.

There may have been applause from the crowd – I’m not sure and might have missed it as I was greying out in astonishment.

Of course, at that point I still had to get the ketchup out of the bottle and onto the fries, but my spirit had been crushed and my ego bruised to the point where I found no shame in sticking the knife into the bottle and pulling it out rather than turning the bottle upside down and shaking it for a half hour to get the condiment flowing.

I found a brief moment of redemption later in the day when a pickle jar needed opening for our holiday BBQ, but I go to bed tonight knowing that that ketchup jar kicked my ass and I would have had to eat my fries sans condiments if it hadn’t been for the almost nonchalant flick of Connie’s wrists.

Thus ends the Tale of the Great Ketchup Debacle of 2018!

 

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Filed under Disasters, Farce, Paul

Best Comment From The Airshow

(Oops, looks like I forgot to post yesterday! I remember researching something, apparently never wrote or pushed the “publish” button. That’s what? Four times? Five times? In over five years? “That will do, pig. That will do.”)

An ongoing repair in one of the CAF SoCal hangars led to the best line of the weekend.

Imagine the following, in an incredibly thick Scottish brogue which I won’t even attempt to reproduce in writing:

“Jesus Christ, you’ve got to have the fucking stupidest pilots in the world here! How many of them actually tried to piss in the thing before someone put up the sign??!!”

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Filed under CAF, Farce, Photography