Saturday, November 21, 2009

Over-Medicated

Had an interesting episode at the doctor's office recently.  I went in with a nasty sore throat and was told it wasn't strep (yay!).  Doctor told me it's a viral infection, not bacterial.

"Let me write you a prescription for antibiotics."

Wait.  Didn't you just say it was a virus?

"Umm... do I really need antibiotics?"

"No, not really.  You can just gargle salt water four times a day instead."

Whoa Nellie!!!  Now, I'm not in the medical profession, but it seems to me that a course of antibiotics and gargling salt water are on two vastly different ends of the treatment spectrum...

But that's just my humble opinion.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Leeches & Bloodsuckers




because I have friends who will help me remove
mean nasty viruses
that some script kiddie thought were fun
to put on other people's computers.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Guy Fawkes

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.

Courtesy of Wikipedia: Guy Fawkes Night

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Pepper's Story

Seeing as Pepper is now famous as the cat on my profile photo (and some of you know what a delightful cat he is), it's time we heard about him. This is Pepper's story.

The house where I first saw Pepper was a sad sight. Dozens of dogs and cats ran throughout the small grassless yard and more could be heard inside. Pepper was the last of the litter to go, but by no means was he the runt: right from the start you could tell he was going to be a big cat. He was passed over because he was covered in muck.

A common misconception about cats is that they need to drink milk. Far from it – many of them are allergic to the stuff. I’d owned such a cat before and recognised right away what the problem was with Pepper. This pitiful, filthy ball of black fur was literally being poisoned by kindness. But the little kitten was not about to suffer that chaos any longer. He had a plan.

As soon as he was placed in my hands, he squirmed around until he faced me and then latched onto my shoulder. Immediately he began a purr to rival a chainsaw, with his whole body vibrating as hard as it could. He rumbled his way into my heart right then and there, which was just as well because he wasn't about to let go of my blouse.

It didn’t take much to clean up this little gem. Ten years and 15lbs of muscular bulk later (no excess fat – the vet says he’s buff), he still purrs like a chainsaw and has been a source of fun and many laughs. Here’s to another 10, mate.