I was a first-grader at Van Nuys Elementary School the first time I came into contact with the medical system and its old time diseases. As a healthy child, the only thing that slowed me down was the occasional off-color weenie on “Hot Dog Friday.” None of the hair-netted ladies behind the steam table thought for a minute that I could have something as serious as Ptomaine Poisoning and wouldn’t have been able to recognize it even if I had. Instead, one of them took off her apron and marched me downstairs to the nurse’s office where she laid me down on an old army cot that smelled of other…
-
-
A Concise History of Breasts Who has them, who doesn't and what women did about them
It’s that time of year again, when a man’s fancy turns to breasts. Specifically, women’s breasts. You know, babaloos, bazookas, boulders, chi-chis and flapdoodles? Headlamps, hooters, jugs, Lewinskis, and chumbawumbas. Milk bombs, nose warmers, shirt puppies, tatas, dinglebobbers and torpedoes. Whatever you choose to call them, they’re the most alluring part of a women’s body and the part that’s always on a man’s mind. And, apparently, I’m not alone. Men and women have been thinking about boobsters for about as long as they’ve been adorning women’s chests. Although no one was there to record it, I’m sure that the moment after his fateful bite of the apple, Adam said to…
-
The Marathon Miracle Or, how to train for a marathon without running a mile
It’s 6:15 in the morning and the pavement is flying beneath me. With each stride through the dark, frosty morning, I’m gobbling up yards of San Vicente Boulevard as I head for the final stretch back to the office. Even though I’m cold and clammy, there’s a certain exhilaration knowing that there aren’t many others up at this hour, let alone preparing for an event like the marathon: 26.2 miles of grueling, energy-sapping punishment. I’d wanted to run a marathon for more than twenty years. But even during the fog of my alcohol and drug addiction, I somehow acknowledged that subjecting my body to that kind of stress would be…
-
Malcolm Brown, M.D.—Ghetto Doctor Director Mel Gibson is poised to release two new films, “Ghetto,” written entirely in Ebonics and “Malcolm Brown, M.D.,” scripted in Pig Latin
Malibu, California—In an effort to redeem himself after his embarrassing DUI arrest, the Academy Award-winning director, Mel Gibson, is poised to release two new film projects: “Ghetto,” written entirely in Ebonics and its sequel, “Malcolm Brown, M.D.,” scripted in Pig Latin. Gibson, famous for producing other films like “The Passion of the Christ” and “Apocolypto,” that were made using the Aramaic and Yucatec Mayan languages, said the two new films promise to be a more accurate reflection of the true emotions that surround life in a low-income, high-crime housing neighborhood of Michigan. “Ghetto’ will be filmed entirely on location at the Foster Chubbs housing project in southern Detroit,” said Gibson.…
Related Posts
Alien Chestburster Chaos In space no one can hear you scream laugh fart or sneeze
Goodbye Rolls Royce, Hello Bus Pass The Musk method for combining gratitude and corporate excommunication into one scorching email
The Gladiator’s Half-Time Show When in Rome make ‘em laugh or get fed to the lions
-
Smoke ‘Em if Ya Got ‘Em It was easy quitting heroin. Smoking was tough
When I was sixteen, my biggest goal in life was to learn how to smoke. Not because I thought it was particularly good for me, but because hanging around a street corner, sucking on a cigarette butt commanded just about as much respect as any post-pubescent male could expect out of life. And, who wouldn’t respect someone for spending their allowance on something that was not only disgusting, but almost guaranteed to kill them, turn their teeth yellow, give them bad breath and make their clothes reek? Lighting up my first cigarette was everything I thought it would be and more – sort of like circling my lips around the…
