D  e  s  e  r  t   E  x  p  o  s  u  r  e        January 2008

Politics Explained, Hospital Charts Deconstructed
and 2008 Rung In

Plus why men are never depressed and centipedes make lousy pets.

Democracy inaction. . . We kick off this election year with the following yarn, sent our way by Tigger of Oz, entitled "Politics Explained." As might be expected, given the topic, the easily offended are urged to skip ahead:

"A little boy goes to his dad and asks, 'What is politics?'

"Dad says, 'Well, son, let me try to explain it this way: I'm the breadwinner of the family, so let's call me Capitalism. Your mom, she's the administrator of the money, so we'll call her the Government. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the People. The nanny, we'll consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we'll call him the Future. Now, think about that and see if that makes sense.'

"So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night, the boy hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.

"The next morning, the little boy says to his father, 'Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now.'

"The father says, 'Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about.'

"The little boy replies, 'Well, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, the Government is sound asleep, the People are being ignored and the Future is in deep doo-doo.'"

Our pets, ourselves. . . This tale concerns perhaps the smallest critter ever to be included in our ongoing pets category. It comes courtesy of GeeRichard:

"This guy was lonely and he decided life would be more fun if he had a pet. So he went to the pet store and told the owner that he wanted to buy an unusual pet. After some discussion, he finally bought a centipede, which came in a little white box to use for its house. He took the box back home, found a good location for the box, and decided he would start off by taking his new pet to the bar to have a drink.

"The man asked the centipede in the box, 'Would you like to go to Frank's with me and have a beer?' But there was no answer from his new pet. This bothered him a bit, but he waited a few minutes and then asked again, 'How about going to the bar and having a drink with me?' Again, there was no answer from his new friend and pet. So the man waited a few minutes more, thinking about the situation. He decided to ask the centipede one more time — this time putting his face up against the centipede's house and shouting, 'HEY, IN THERE! WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO TO FRANK'S PLACE AND HAVE A DRINK WITH ME?'

"Finally, a little voice came out of the box: 'I heard you the first time! I'm putting on my shoes.'"

Losing the battle of the sexes. . . We suspect that this volley in the gender wars, which came our way via JM RealOne, will come as no surprise to our readers of the female persuasion:

"Why men are never depressed: What do you expect from such simple creatures? Your last name stays put. The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can be president. You can never be pregnant. You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. You can wear NO shirt to a water park. Car mechanics tell you the truth.

"The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.

"Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. A wedding dress is $5,000, but a tux rents for $100.

"People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister or mangle your feet. One mood all the time. Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars.

"You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

"Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.

"Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades! You have to shave only your face and neck. Your belly usually hides your big hips. One wallet and one pair of shoes, one color for all seasons. You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can 'do' your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

"You can play with toys all your life. You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on Dec. 24 in 25 minutes.

"No wonder men are happier!"

The joke's on us. . . We can always count on Old Grumps to send us a laugh or two every month, and we're glad that the first month of 2008 is no exception:

"While Bubba and Billy Bob were in the local Wal-Mart, they decided to get in on the weekly charity raffle. They bought five tickets each at a dollar a pop. The following week, when the raffle was drawn, each had won a prize. Billy Bob won first place — a year's supply of gourmet spaghetti sauce and extra-long spaghetti. Bubba won sixth prize — a toilet brush.

"About a week or so had passed when the men met back at Wal-Mart. Bubba asked Billy Bob how he liked his prize, to which Billy Bob replied, 'Great! I love spaghetti!' In return, Billy Bob asked Bubba, 'How 'bout you, how's the toilet brush?'

"'Not so good,' replied Bubba. 'I'm thinking 'bout switching back to paper.'"

Take two and call in the morning. . . "Don't know if these are true or not, but would not be surprised if they are," writes Fred in the Garage in passing along these purportedly "actual writings from hospital charts":

"The patient refused autopsy.

"The patient has no previous history of suicides.

"Patient left white blood cells at another hospital.

"She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

"Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

"On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.

"The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

"The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

"Discharge status: Alive but without permission.

"Healthy-appearing decrepit 69-year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.

"Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.

"She is numb from her toes down.

"While in ER, she was examined, X-rated and sent home.

"The skin was moist and dry.

"Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.

"Patient was alert and unresponsive.

"Rectal examination revealed a normal-size thyroid.

"She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.

"I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical therapy.

"Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation.

"Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.

"The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.

"Skin: somewhat pale but present.

"The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.

"Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities."

What color is your golden parachute? . . . This yarn from frequent correspondent Toni in the Vet's Office will resonate with anyone who's ever been an underling:

"A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost. He reduced altitude and spotted a woman below. He descended a bit more and shouted, 'Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am.'

"The woman below replied, 'You are in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You are between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude.'

"'You must be an engineer,' said the balloonist.

"'I am,' replied the woman. 'How did you know?'

"'Well,' answered the balloonist, 'everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help so far.'

"The woman below responded, 'You must be in management.'

"'I am,' replied the balloonist. 'But how did you know?'

"'Well,' said the woman, 'you don't know where you are or where you are going. You have risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is, you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it's my fault!'"

Department of consumer affairs. . . This warning comes courtesy of Writer Bill, and frankly we suspect that it could also apply to almost any other retail location:

"A 'heads up' for those of you who may be regular Home Depot customers. Over the last month I became a victim of a clever scam while shopping. Simply going out to get supplies has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends. Here's how the scam works:

"Two seriously good-looking young women come over to your car as you are packing your shopping items into the trunk. They start cleaning your windshield with a rag and Windex, making sure to lean over to the point that they're almost falling out of their skimpy T-shirts. It is impossible not to look.

"When you thank them and offer them a tip, they politely refuse and instead ask you for a ride to another Home Depot location. You agree and they get in the back seat. On the way, they start undressing. Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts crawling all over you. And while you're distracted, the other one steals your wallet!

"This is serious business! I had my wallet stolen October 4, 9, 10, 15 (twice!), 17, 20 and 24. Also November 1, 3, 9 (three times!), 12, 17, 21 and very likely again this upcoming weekend.

"So tell your friends to be careful!"

Happy new year, part I. . . Finally, we celebrate the new year with two reflections on the ever-turning calendar page. First, from Bob in the Mortuary, comes this list of "New Rules for 2008" (which we've seen variously attributed to George Carlin and Bill Maher) with some resolutions worth making and keeping:

"No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving; it's the upscale version of looting.

"Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years — because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days — mowing my lawn.

"Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of fast-food chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain — lobster?

"If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

"Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: Do you have two of them? Good, they're done.

"There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket — water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

"Stop screwing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

"The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the jerk. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a 'decaf grande, half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n-Low and one NutraSweet,' you're a huge jerk.

"Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your butt. And it translates to 'beef with broccoli.'

"When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to hear '27 months.' 'He's two' will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place."

Happy new year, part II. . . And these, sent our way by Frumpy Fox, ring all too true as we ring in the new year:

"You know you're living in 2008 when. . .

"You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

"You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.

"You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.

"You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.

"Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.

"You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.

"Every commercial on television has a Web site at the bottom of the screen.

"Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.

"You get up in the morning and go online before getting your coffee.

"You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )"

Send your signs of the times, puns, jokes, heartwarming anecdotes and cosmic ponderings to: Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134, email diary@desertexposure.com Remember, the best submission each month gets a highly collectible Desert Exposure coffee mug.

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