Dear patient,

You're faking and there is nothing I hate more than a patient trying to fake a seizure or unconsciousness. You're flopping around on the floor, flailing your arms and legs while your abdominal muscles are as flaccid as can be and after my partner gave you a sternal rub in the middle of your "seizure" you yelled at him "Knock it the fuck off man! Can't you see I'm having a fuckin' seizure?" You *spelled* your medications for me during your "seizure"

You're a giant faking faker who fakes and I can. not. stand. it.

Simple Mathematics

Last night some friends and I went to my favorite restaurant, Fuji, to celebrate my birthday. Now, I'm usually there once a week, the staff knows us, the staff seats us ahead of other people with reservations** because 1.) we fuckin' rock and 2.) we tip well. When we're there for sushi we always ask for the same waitress and we only go on nights that she is working. We usually leave a 100% tip because we usually aren't charged for half of the stuff that is brought to the table and the service is absolutely top notch, since the food is so incredibly fresh and delicious then it is well worth the money spent.

Last night they were running behind in the hibachi section so we waited at the bar and had a couple of drinks. The bartender rocks. She asked if we would be willing to try an experimental drink that she is working on and said "um, you guys eat sushi all the time, you shouldn't be afraid of this" when she served it to us. She served it to us with a raw quail egg dish that was divine.

When we were seated for dinner there was a table next to us that was giving their server a hard time about the bill. The restaurant policy is that if you make reservations for a large group at a hibachi table then you need to tell them ahead of time if you want the check divided up a certain way. There was one woman at the table that we shall call Bitch and one whom we shall call SuperBitch. Bitch was glaring at our table and making snide remarks about the way we were being treated while SuperBitch asked for the manager and barked at her saying "Well if you want to get paid then you're going to split up this check the way I asked for it and you're going to take off the fucking gratuity" The manager, who also happened to be our server, walked off whilst rolling her eyes and the guy sitting next to SuperBitch told her she needed to calm the fuck down or he was never going out in public again with her. The whole ordeal made me think of RagingServer and the trash that he has to deal with, because as the manager walked off Bitch turned to SuperBitch and said "Bet they'd think twice about treating people like this if we walked out on the bill."

Anyhow, dinner was delightful, the company was delightful and a good time was had by everyone there, including the manager who came and sat with us when we commented on what a bunch of losers the people at the other table were.

Now, I am not a heavy drinker, and if I am having more than two drinks then I tend to alternate alcoholic beverages with either water or cranberry juice so as to remain hydrated, however last night I failed to do this.
Last night we learned the following:

MedicMatthew + whiskey + (gin+sake+some top shelf citrus liquer+quail egg white) + never ending glass of plum sake* - hydration = crunk

crunk + minimal sleep = hangover

hangover + 70 minute drive home x no sunglasses = horrible

Therefore we can rule that MedicMatthew + lastnight = serious napping today

Apparently I must remember to hydrate next time because I never get hangovers. EVAR1!





*plum sake = alcoholic Kool-Aid

**Funny side note: I showed up one Friday night with a friend at about 7pm and told the host there were two of us and she said there would be about a 20 minute wait which we were expecting anyhow. Our usual waitress immediately spotted us and took us back to a table in her section and when another party of two that were there ahead of us protested she simply turned to them and said "Sorry, VIP."

It is done.

Let the Hopenchange begin.

Subzero

At 0530 this morning we were called out and I just happened to look at the thermometer outside the base. -23 degrees Fahrenheit. Negative twenty three degrees. NEGATIVE twenty three motherfucking degrees.

I came off a 24 hour shift this morning only to pack up my gear and head to another base for another 10 hour shift but before I could go to the other base we had to get the Xterra started. I do not do a happy dance when I turn the key and hear rohr rohr rohr rohr click click click click click click. In fact I may have been seen beating my fists against the steering wheel while yelling fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFUCkFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK. *sigh* We managed to get the Xterra started and I drove it the 20 miles to the other base and left it running for a few hours.

Wonder if she'll start when it comes time to go home.

I guess I don't assimilate well.

Hey, it looks like VooDoo Medicine Man and I have something in common! Who would have thought.

I'm an embarrassment to Barack!


I only scored 17 on the Obama Test