’18 A To Z Challenge – S

 

Challenge '18letter-s-super

 

 

 

 

 

Somebody else also got a vasectomy, but he was an asshole about it.  Read all about his

SURGERY

Hedge Clippers

In Valium Veritas

I got the inspiration for my recent Recovery post, by reading one from a woman who accompanied her husband to the hospital for his vasectomy.  He got so worked up about it, (as many men do) that they gave him a Valium to calm him down.

It affected him strangely.  She felt that it hit him like a non-prescription drug, or alcohol.  He started saying, what she felt were amusing things, so she recorded them and built a blog-post from them.

While she may have found his actions and utterances in the hospital amusing, like the little kid who fell into a mud puddle (and profanity) in my That’s Not Funny post, I think it acts more like a truth serum, and reveals a lot about his basic character and attitudes.  Here’s his sit-down comedy routine and some of my comments. Feel free to add yours below.

That man looks way too happy to be doing his job.

Just another Urologist, who may not even have been performing vasectomies.  A little homophobia anyone?

That’s way too many white people. 

She left it unclear whether he was referring to patients/visitors, hospital staff, or both.  He’s white, but who does he think he is, the Equal Opportunity Employment Manager?

Look, it’s the man who’s going to cut open my penis.  I hope you don’t take too much.

He didn’t really read the preparation literature, did he?  They don’t cut the penis.  He’s got a real worry about size.  His ego is as big as his imagination.

You think that woman is going to have a vasectomy??  Tee-hee, ask her.

He’s not really that stupid, is he? (See ‘cut open my penis’, above)  And he wants to embroil his wife in this embarrassing behavior.

I could go through life like this.  And I wouldn’t be useless either.

I can believe that he would go through life like that, if someone else would support him.  The added degree of useless would scarcely be noticed.

About a nurse who arrived for work ONLY 5 minutes early.
That woman’s late for work.  That’s unacceptable.

Now he thinks that he is the hospital’s Employment Practices Manager.  If the nurse she’s replacing, or the department supervisor, doesn’t say anything – Render unto Caesar, or keep your mouth shut.

I’m not going to say what I want to say, all these bitches walking around. 

I think he’s said quite enough thank you.  Enough to reveal that he is a real misogynist, with no respect for women.

The next day, after the Valium had worn off, to his wife with two children, but who really wanted more babies.
I got the snip-snip-sniparoo.  No more babies for you.

According to her post, she thought that this was funny.  I think that they should have performed an Optrectomy on him while they had him.  That’s the operation that severs the nerve connecting the eyes to the asshole, getting rid of that shitty attitude about everything.

I pity the poor woman.  Sadly, there are so many more with loud-mouth, opinionated husbands like this.  If he were mine, a large frying pan might accidently go off while I was cleaning it, striking him in the head – 4 or 5 times.  What about you?  Is comparing him to a worm in an apple too good for him?

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Flash Fiction #173

Squeaky Wheel

PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen

GOING’ROUND AND ‘ROUND

Nobody was embezzling.  It was just a minor accounting anomaly which occasionally caused me problems.

I approached the bookkeeper.  She said she wasn’t authorized to modify procedure.  The Office Manager was always hip-deep in alligators.  At the weekly progress meeting, no-one wanted to accept responsibility.

The CFO said to get his secretary schedule a meeting, and we’d ‘discuss it.’  I finally got the Documents Clerk to include a line-item in the annual shareholders’ report.  Suddenly the President was all about transparency.

The squeaky wheel really is the one that gets the grease.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Friday Fictioneers

WOW #39

Dictionary

The Word Of this Week,

KAHOOT

doesn’t exist, even though I found it in an A to Z Challenge.  There’s all too much of this sort of thing going on out there in Bloggerland, even among the better spoken written.

Despite filling the ‘K’ slot in her alphabet challenge, the word should be cahoot.  They’re very sociable little creatures that get lonely quite easily, so you almost always see two or more cahoots together, getting into mischief.

  1. US partnership; league (esp. in the phrases go in cahoots with, go cahoot )
  2. in cahoots in collusion

Word Origin and History for cahoots

1829, American English, of unknown origin; said to be perhaps from French cahute “cabin, hut” (12c.), but U.S. sources credit it to French cohorte (see cohort), a word said to have been in use in the U.S. South and West with a sense of “companions, confederates.”

I met a lady online that I wanted to get in cahoots with, so I sexted her a picture of my privates.  She said it must be a private; it wasn’t big enough to be a Corporal, much less a General.  Oh well, back to looking for odd/interesting words.  😆

WOW #38

Dictionary

The obscure English Word Of the first Week of November is

 Turbary.

This word means the legal right to cut turf or peat from ground belonging to somebody else. It was important, upon a time, because peat was a specific and limited resource in certain regions; but who’d have ever imagined that the rights to cut it actually had its own specific term?

Only in English, the language of a million plus words and a history of mugging other languages for their vocabulary and then chasing them down a dark alley and riffling their pockets for even more.

I don’t think that anyone would want to come to my place and cut sod, but I wouldn’t mind if some nice person cut my lawn.

Poor antiquated ‘Turbary.’  A few people must still cut peat to use as fuel, but electricity and gas being piped to almost every home in Britain, has relegated it to the back of the top shelf of the Dictionary’s closet.  It is not alone there.  The writer of a recent post that I read was amazed by the existence of the word ‘defenestration,’ which means throwing something, or someone, out of a window.

“Was there really a lot of that going on, back in the Middle Ages, that they needed to create a word to describe it?”  Watch/rewatch the movie Braveheart, where Longshanks, the King, casually tosses the ‘friend’ of the gay prince out of the tower window.  “Clean that mess up!”

Would you like a real challenge? Write a sentence (or two) in the comments using this word.  I had trouble enough just composing this short little post.  I can issue a challenge with the word ‘turbary,’ I try to keep this a G-rated blog site.  I couldn’t challenge you with a word like dongle.  I know you lot.  😆

 

’18 A To Z Challenge – Puppy Love

 

Challenge '18 letter-p

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have been proved wrong – again!

I told the wife, that when our Wheaten/Schnauzer/Poodle–cross cur was gone, we would not get another dog.  I explained a thousand times that we are too old, too weak, that we didn’t have the strength, the stamina, the patience….most of all, the money, to buy a purebred, non-allergenic puppy.

Puppies Parents

Our two new little handfuls, with their black Daddy, and white Momma.

By ‘we’, of course, I meant ‘me.’  Suddenly, one day, while I was composing a previous A-To-Z post, she called to me to “come see something on my laptop.”  Halfway down the stairs, I saw the picture of Mom and Dad Scotty Terriers.  Before I could even protest, she shifted to more photos of a bundle of the cutest puppies.  Ohhh, no fair!

Scottish Terriers are usually black, but some of them are white, and a few of them are brindle, which is white, with blonde/gold highlights.  Mom was white.  Dad was black, and the puppies were some of each.  Could we just go to look at them??  They were only a 2 ½ hour drive away.  I’m doomed – doomed I tell you.

Puppies

Aren’t the two new Scottish terrors Terriers cute??

We brought the son – and his checkbook – along.  They valiantly held out, but we all knew that we had not come just to look.  The wife picked the little black female, above.  Then came the hard sell.  Unlike the previous litter, this time the breeder was having trouble getting rid of the males.  If we would also take a male, she would give us a screwing deal on both dogs.

The wife launched a piteous appeal to his heartstrings, to get the son to further loosen his purse-strings.  When he finally bowed to the inevitable, we became a two-dog family.  Happy birthday, Mothers’ Day, Arbor Day, Thanksgiving, anniversary, Christmas, and Leonard Nimoy’s bris.

The next day, we got a panicked phone call.  “Is something wrong??”  Well….  Another couple had come to look at the puppies, and she was attaching ribbons to ours, to assure that we got the ones we’d picked out.  The male the wife had chosen, the only brindle one in the litter – had turned out to be a female??!  Would we accept any other male?  We chose the happy, chubby white male, as a Mini-Me.

We named the male, Duff, a Gaelic word that means ‘black.’  We called the little female, Guin, a Welsh term which means ‘white.’  So, our black dog is White, and our white dog is Black.  At least we’re not out Walkin’ My Cat Named Dog, as Norma Tanega did, back in the mid-60s.

No Chew

Here’s a liter of IRONY!

Plug

I only hope that the male pulled that plug from the socket, before he chewed it off.

At just over six months old, they recently got their first trim.  We had to be vetted by our new groomer.  She was recommended by the wife’s hairdresser.  The woman came to the house to see the dogs in their ‘native environment,’ before she would accept us as clients.  I feel so 90210. 😯 Oh Yeah!  We’ve got two new puppies.  Be thankful that you’re only stuck with me.  At least I’m house-trained.  😉

Puppers

They’ve gone from being a mere handful, to being A Real handful.

Flash Fiction #172

Guano

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell

BIRD BRAIN

Pouter Pigeon

I think that my pouter pigeon would make a great presidential candidate.  He couldn’t be worse than the one we have now.

He could be the bird brain who struts around on his tiny hands feet, with his chest puffed out, thinking that he was God’s gift to all females.  He would be the unending source of incomprehensible tweets.

He’d constantly have Washington, and the world, all aflutter, and produce lots of unintelligible noise and great streams of bullshit guano.  Dab a little cheese sauce on his head, and the average American MAGA voter would elect him in a second.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a Prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Friday Fictioneers

 

Flash Fiction #171

Adam and Eve

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

What kind of tree did you say that one is??  A fig tree??  Nah, that can’t be right.  A fig tree should have leaves as big as palm fronds.

Well, in the Bible, it says that Adam and Eve were naked and ashamed, so they made clothing from fig leaves, and covered themselves.

I don’t know how well…. endowed Adam was, but those leaves wouldn’t cover a beauty spot.  Make concealing clothing from those tiny leaves?  I don’t really think so.  They’re more like the sequins on a high school girl’s prom dress and they’d cover just about as much.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story

Friday Fictioneers