Dig it! =^..^=

DISCLOSURE – the “k” in kwality thing is originally one of Brian’s jokes from many years ago; which means that if my son’s boss gets mad and tells him not to say that to people, then really it’s all Brian’s fault.  I love win-win situations.

Ciao and Cheers

=^..^=

I check in at the Endoscopy clinic registration and am introduced to the change room where I am told to change out of everything from the waist-up and put on a hospital gown (ever tried tying a knot behind your back? – I’ll have to try this on the Scouts) and housecoat. I go back to the front-reception waiting area and observe a number of similarly-clad anxious souls. I’m more philosophical about it and figure it is what it is. The intake nurse then calls me in.

“So Mr Parkanyi, you’re here for the gastroscopy are you?”

“Um,no. I’m pretty sure I’m here for a colonoscopy.”

(frowning) “But it says here gastroscopy.”

“Do I need to void all food matter and half my internal organs for a gastroscopy?”

“Oh no – so you are a colonoscopy. Well why don’t I take you off the gastroscopy list then.”

“That would be nice, and while you’re at it could you please take me off the heart-surgery list as well.”

(not getting the joke) “You’re having heart surgery!?”

“No, just the colonoscopy.”

“And you’re not here for a gastroscopy as well?”

“I can choose? Like a menu?”

“I’ll go check with the doctor.”

“Yes, perhaps that would be best.”

After that I get my IV docking station installed and am sent back out to the waiting area. Soon after I get the real call. A nice nurse leads me to the procedure room.

“Take off your bottoms and toss them in the bin over he….. you still have your pants on.”

“Gastroscopy.”

“Ah”

I go back and change out of my jeans, then return.

“So Mr. Parkanyi, do you understand what we will be doing to you today?”

“Doing to me? Uh, inflating me like a balloon and then sticking a probe up my ___?”

“Well we have medical terms for that, but basically, yes.”

The lady doctor then arrives.

“Hello, so how are you today Mr. Parkanyi?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

(chuckles) “OK lie down on your side and bring your knees up to your chest. We’re going to start the IV now.”

And then things suddenly get real mellow and I’m thinking “Whoah – alriiight…I like valium.”

The probe starts moving and there I am, on a flat-screen monitor in HD. (To an unknowing outside observer it could have been the Discovery Channel). She was moving pretty fast and it was kind of like when the Federation starships go into warp drive and dissolve into a streaking tunnel of light, only lumpier. Valium – any mind-altering drug I suppose – makes you think weird things like “wow, this is the closest I’m ever going to get to a threesome in this lifetime – two domineering women, me and a medical probe…”

Before you know it, it’s over and they’re wheeling me into the recovery room with another six or seven glazed–looking people. It reminded me of a 70’s party. Of course the first thing out of my mouth is “Hey, anybody else got the munchies?” This startles them a little, but then the woman next to me thinks about it and offers “Come to think of it, I could really use a cheeseburger right now” – and off we all go trying to outdo each other with our food fantasies. Finally my time is up, I get dressed, and Cindy arrives with my son Nick. With a big Cheshire cat grin on my face I boom “Hi! – let’s eat!” and off we go to Tim Horton’s/Wendy’s. The girl at the cash misunderstands my order and at the pick-up counter I have two breakfast bagels with egg and bacon waiting for me instead of one. I’m about to say something but then happily realize “I can eat this!” and proceed to do so.

I remained pretty-much stoned for the rest of the afternoon but managed to sleep most of it off. It was probably for the best that I didn’t need to do any trading that day.

Cheers,

George

The CFL rarely disappoints when it comes to their Championship Game (and to all you sportcasters out there the word is pronounced “championSHip” not ”championCHip) and yesterday’s game was no exception. 

What a way for Saskatchewan to lose.  No time on the clock and the inability to count to twelve.   Kudos to Montreal for refusing to quit. 

28 -27

ciao

So taking a little sampler, let’s see what we have. The U.S. debt clock  (it’s a busy one) seems to be the grand-daddy of them all. Texas size. The U.S. national debt according to this one is at $11.932 trillion for a per-capita I.O.U. of $38,758 per U.S. citizen and $109,934 per tax-payer. Hey kids – surprise! With an annual GDP of $12.008 trillion, U.S. citizens can be happy to know that one year’s worth of hard work would pay off the debt (if they just bear down and don’t didn’t eat, house themselves or clothe themselves for that year).

Canadians are, let’s face it, just not as enterprising as Americans, and through their beer-drinking, hockey watching fog have only managed to accumulate a paltry CAD $497.3 billion, or CAD $14,803 per citizen/resident. After adjusting for the exchange rate, in real paper dollars that would be an even lower $13,915 per-capita, a shameful 35.9% of what Americans have been able to do. This all according to the debt clock sponsored by the Canadian Taxpayers Federation. Taxpayers federation? We’re lagging this far behind, and some people have the nerve to even throw around some attitude about it.

The U.K debt clock chooses not to take sides between its old colonies, and settles somewhere in the middle at $1.4 trillion or $22,561 per person.

Even Japan, the most indebted G-whatever nation by debt as a % of GDP has a debt clock. How would you like you and yours to owe $94,952 each? (I find it a little ironic that people use the yen as as a haven against the US dollar. I think I’d better be selling mine).

And the Economist magazine has actually taken on doing a global debt clock, showing a tally of everyone’s public debt ($45.689 trillion they say). The only problem I see is that their numbers vary pretty dramatically from the debt clocks above. Ah well, a trillion dollars sure ain’t what it used to be.

1- Skiit Shooting (pronounced “Skeet” shooting)

Contestants combine the fun of ski jumping with the high dexterity adrenaline rush of out-manoeuvring heat-seeking missiles aimed directly at their flight path arc. Each skiiter is given 3 flares that they can utilise to off-track the heat-seeking missile fired their way. Points are awarded based on the number of unused flares intact skiiters retain following their jump. Rendered body parts landing with unused flares are disqualified for aesthetic reasons. Bonus points are awarded to contestants who successfully complete the course without soiling their suits in any manner.

2- Suicide Vest Relay

Contestants take turns donning explosive vests while navigating a course comprised of razor wire, opium-producing poppies and non-kosher condiments. Points are docked for premature detonations. The first three to complete the course are then driven to an empty industrial park where images of 72 virgins (like you can find a REAL one in BC?) ring the winners’ podium. The Vest Relay winners mount the podium steps and are encouraged to taunt infidels and chant anti-western slogans before detonating their vests.

3- CEO Toss

Former Pay-Per-View wrestling icons physically disembowel CEOs caught embezzling public monies used to finance unearned lavish lifestyles. Not to be confused with the ever-popular Lobbyist Luge in which politicians perform acts of oral stimulation while going down on various carpetbaggers, global economists and journalists.

~ Ciao

He was crushed.

(Talk about out of ideas – over to you Brian)

Once you master this newly minted secret you will never again have to worry about being unemployed. Yep, non-experts everywhere will seek you out for your opinion and counsel and it won’t even matter how badly you suck at what you do because institutions like Wall Street will pay top dollar to further the cause of ponzi-nomics. It’s all about form, not fact.

So what is this secret?  Simple:  Become an “Expert”. 

You see becoming an “expert” makes you a hot commodity. So don’t upgrade your education when all you really need to do is upgrade your printer and purchase a stack of blank business cards. In short just make shit up. It’s all the rage nowadays so get in on the fun and stop lining up for food stamps and food banks. Yes, it is time to seize the initiative and to live the life to which you are not entitled. Why be a Walter Mitty when you could be a Bernie Madoff (sans the jail term).

Being an “expert” is a lot like being unemployed, only with five-star in-office catering and snappier clothes. And if ever you begin to doubt your “expert” credentials all you need do is look at what other “experts” have accomplished in just the past 12 months. Don’t miss YOUR opportunity to implode the global economy, crash stock markets, decimate the real estate industry, run up obscene deficits AND derail major automotive manufacturers. Become an “expert” now and get in on the next bubble of prosperity. Carpe diem.

Now people have been waiting for hours and hours in these lines, and the media is beginning to report on this ad-nauseum as well. I do have a few thoughts on how to deal with these long line-ups. One would be to get the government to be more organized and efficient – which of course will never happen, as Newton proved mathematically long ago with his Law of Inertia.

Better would be to have someone run out of the clinic arms raised in the air in praise crying “I’m immune! I’m immune!” – and then promptly fall down as if dead. Or you could casually sidle up to one of the thicker parts of the line and point out “You do know of course that this is the ebola line.”

Or get in line and start up a conversation. Inevitably when someone asks if you are there for your flu shot, say “Oh yes, this is my third. Can’t be too careful.” This is especially effective if there are rumours of shortages.

A personal favourite is getting a few small groups of people together to start lines outside other buildings while spreading rumours that more clinics have opened. Once robust lines form here as well, your small groups move off leaving the lines behind and start new ones. (Imagine the surprise of would be inoculants when they offered coffee and donuts instead of vaccine.)

That should clear things up a little.