Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings...

If you know anything about Texas, you know that this is reality show breeding ground down here. A few names come to mind immediately:

Kelly Clarkson (American Idol winner)

Nikki McKibbon (American Idol non-winner)

Colby Donaldson (Survivor HPOA*)

Melissa Lawton (Nashville Star winner with possibly the coolest husband ever)

Trey and Kasey (Top Chef)

Steven and Jerry (Big Brother 10)

Daniel (Loved him!) and Matthew (Shear Genius)

Etc. Etc. Etc.

There are a ton of others, but I'm not motivated to research them all right now, because that's not really the point of this post.


This post is to share with you all, the Saddest. Picture. Ever.

I don't know what disturbs me more, the fact that Nancy Belew (on the far right) is a little old to be a puppet-making Jason Castro superfan...or the fact that Wanda Dewes is feeling up said puppet...or the puppet itself with that giant body and tiny little shrunken head.

Thoughts?

*HOPA=Hot Piece of Ass (Thank to Precious, the original HPOA, for that one.)

Today's title selection: Master of Puppets - Metallica

Why does it hurt when I pee...

Has anybody seen the television commercial for Liberator Medical Supply?

No?

Well then let me introduce you to Holly, a 40-ish woman with a penchant for denim button downs and playing with cats in meadows.

Holly tells us that since her health benefits don't cover new catheters, she is forced to reuse them every time she "caths."

OK. First of all...ewww.

Secondly, is cath even a word? Or did she just verbize* catheter? As somebody who evidently reuses catheters pretty regularly...if anyone can do it, I guess she can. But it still bugs me.

And this whole self-cath thing??? When did health care workers stop doing that kind of stuff? I understand there are chronic conditions that require people to do some sort of medical procedure on their own regularly - like diabetics and insulin shots for instance. But I've had a catheter**, and let me tell you, I don't think my public relations degree would have prepared me to put that sucker all the way up in there.

Anyway, enough about me. Back to Holly...

Holly explains how tedious it is to reuse her catheters: She has to boil (I hope in a pot dedicated to that purpose and that purpose alone), dry and reuse them. Plus, they've been causing her to get a lot of nasty urinary tract infections lately (duh!). So what's a girl to do?

Enter Liberator Medical Supply.

Like a shining beacon in the night, Holly hears about this company that will ensure you never again have to boil and toil over your infection-infused catheter. There's only one problem: Holly is afraid to call. Yes, the chick who sanatizes and inserts a pee tube INTO HER BLADDER is too afraid to make a telephone call (a call that we later learn will change her life forever). Thankfully, her mom calls for her.

It's a struggle, but eventually Holly overcomes her telephobia*, talks with the representatives, gets her new catheters and all is well. She feels so good, in fact, that she can squat in the meadow to pet her cat. (Cat...CATheter...nice subliminal messaging there, LMS!)

So what are you waiting for? Pick up the phone and call...

Today's title selection: Why Does It Hurt When I Pee? - Frank Zappa

*= Yes, I know I made that up. But y'all know that's how I roll.
**= I was hospitalized after a car accident. There's nothing like the guy you like coming to visit you in the hospital, sitting beside you and politely asking you if you can stop pissing until he leaves because your catheter is at his feet and he doesn't realize you can't help that shit. I hope Holly never encounters such hatred.

Another one bites the dust...

So remember wed-cation from a few months back? You know...the one with the bride that was concerned because her wedding was taking place on the "EYES of March?" Well guess what? They're expecting!

By my calculations she was either already pregnant or got pregnant at the wedding (I bet that kid is going to LOVE mojitos!). I am neither a mathematician nor am I someone who wants kids enough to know how long the gestation period is (everyone says "9 months" but you have to count from a certain day after/before either your period, the lunar cycle, heavy trash day or something like that). Anyway, I conferred with my mother-in-law who is an expert on such things (and looks for any excuse to talk babies with me and tell me how beautiful ours would be...to which I say flattery will get you very far, but it won't cause us to totally change our lives or anything). Anyway, she agrees Baby Mojito was likely already a done deal.

So anyway, the point of the post is this. I really, really like this girl who our friend married. But she isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and this completely illustrates that. She quit taking her birth control pills and the doctor told her "it might take 6 months to get pregnant" (which to her meant, "you're totally safe for 6 months, so don't even worry about a back-up. Go ahead...you've been on these pills for 10 years...you deserve some no-worry bedroom action!"). She probably would've fared better had she just put an anti-fertility idol on her dresser and called it a day (BTW if they really make those and somebody can hook me up...let me know).

Speaking of babies...Hippie Sister (who birthed the cutest baby girl EVER, by the way...I know I've said that before, but it's totally true and she isn't paying me or anything) started a blog. It's new, so there aren't a ton of posts yet, but you should totally check it out (even though I completely disagree with her review of Nikki Sixx's Heroin Diaries).

She's at least as clever and darling as I am, so I know you'll love it.