I'm a magnet for both medical emergencies and idiots-- thankfully I've never been incapacitated; However, that hasn't stopped "good samaritans" from trying to...

1) Stab me in the throat in an attempt to perform a trachectomy during a *mild* asthma attack.

2) Force-feed me boiling-hot water during a catastrophic asthma attack.

3) Purposefully flick that SAME boiling water in my face, in the hope that some of the magic boiling water would fall into my mouth and cure everything, BLINDING ME, during a MAJOR ASTHMA ATTACK.

If that woman is now a paraplegic due to some idiot rushing in and doing exactly what's wrong? SUE THAT IDIOT.

Maybe people will think harder about WHAT to do and educate themselves rather than rushing in to be "helpful" without having a clue.

Waitaminute... Bea Arthur?

Deadpool? Exactly HOW long have you been blogging under the name "Stacy"?

Hold on a minute-- where are they getting their info on USA hangover cures???

I've NEVER heard of raw egg being involved in curing a hangover... much less as part of a morning-after Bloody Mary. I always thought we were the land of Ibuprofen and Orange Juice.

I've had a pair of mummufied gopher feet earrings for years, and I always get tons of compliments-- especially around Halloween.

They're black and hairless, and most of the people are a little disgusted... until I tell them that they came from a 100% sustainable farm where they shoot as opposed to poison the gophers who would destroy their crops, EAT THEM, make the feet into earrings, and I think they donate the skulls to science classrooms or something.

Somehow, even hardcore hippies come to appreciate that the ex-gophers are being put to maximum good use.

I never believed anyone else did this... but my story's a little different.

I have no kids. What I *did* have where time sheets that needed to be faxed in to the tamp agency, and a VERY boring temp job.

I also had a useless degree in art (Ding! Fries are done!), and a lot of white space on those faxes... So I drew. And drew. And drew. Gnomes, octopuses, anthropomorphised staplers-- you name it.

It wasn't until I picked up my last paycheck from the agency that I ran into the woman who collected the time sheets. She was thrilled to finally meet me, and took a picture of me for her daughter. You see, she'd carefully been cutting out those pictures and putting them in her daughter's lunch pail on mondays.

I wonder if that little girl will ever remember that.

I like to pretend that there's fewer Cheetos to a package, and that I'm saving a whopping 100 calories per snarfed-in-a-moment-of-weakness bag.

Please don't ask me to prove this. Let me live out my little fantasy.

(I AM peeved that cans of tuna look mysteriously under-filled, however. And more "tuna-looking". It's much more difficult to make into tuna sammiches with their "fresh-looking chunks" as opposed to "pre-cooked fish mush". BRING BACK THE MUSH!)

I had an address on Siskiyou Ave in Ashland, OR for five years before learning that Sisikyou Ave was a segment of the original Highway 66.

This would be unremarkable save for the fact that I am Will Rogers' Grand-Niece.

I'd come all the way from Hawaii to reside there, choosing that college on a hunch, and marvel about that coincidence to this very day.

Well color me stupid-- I replayed the first twenty seconds THREE TIMES before realizing that it was the guy draped in all that fabric who was the crasher, not the guy in grey who jumped up and grabbed him.

I've obviously seen to many ugly-ass fashion shows.

Viral advertizing is nice and all... but there's not much you can DO with the little bugger, is there? Am I missing something?

There's a chick around town-- about my age-- And for the longest time I thought she had some tragic disease. Her eyes didn't quite buldge out of their sockets, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what was wrong with them, and why she was wearing hideous blue contacts on top of it all.

I saw these online about a month ago and sure enough I saw her again, and got a good close look.

Mystery of horribly deformed eyes solved: she was Wapanese. Well, Wispanic, actually; and unless you peel your eyes wide-open like those models do? The results are distinctly virulent-looking.

The music is Trio's "Da da da"...

... minus the lyrics.

FOD or Furby?

It seriously looks like a furby. :/

Sorry to break the news, but this has been the style du jour in the trendy parts of Seattle for about 6 months now. On skinny men, skinny women, and women whose 'frenemies' assure them that it doesn't make their thighs look big *at all*.

My libido really misses having male-butts-in-male-pants to stare at. :(