Describe Injury: Stapled Thumb

I almost always carry a pen with me just in case I have to scribble something down, however I don’t always carry a note pad. For scratch paper, I rely on my trusty co-workers!

I was in a paper predicament the other day while at the Main Reception desk – had the pen and not the paper. Darlene, the receptionist, was kind enough to supply me with several small pieces of scratch paper joined together by a loose staple. I grabbed the loose staple in an attempt to separate it from the sheets (without sacrificing the integrity of the sheets). Before I knew it, half of the staple was hooked into my thumb.

Dang.

I brought my thumb up to my face and took a gander at the damage. The staple was actually hooked quite deep inside of my thumb – inside one end and out the other with a big hunk of flesh in the middle. I briefly struggled with the staple, trying to push the one end back into my thumb so that it would come out of the other end.

I finally managed to pull it out, but not without some blood. I pushed up on my thumb to make the blood come out as if I was squeezing a cherry flavored Gusher (remember Gushers?). Since I didn’t want to get any blood on my mint green shirt, I walked downstairs to the Wellness Center for a Band Aid and some antibacterial cream.

“When was your last tetanus shot?” Sheryl asked me.

What? How was I supposed to know? The last time I received any vaccination, I wore pants with Ninja Turtles on them. After I filled out an INJURY REPORT, I called my mom while she was at work to learn that my last tetanus shot was exactly10 years ago. Time for a booster!

Since I refuse to die from an infection due to a staple, I returned to the Wellness Center with the grim news. Sheryl directed me to the “first room on the left” while she got the vaccine. I paced around the room for a bit, staring at the ceiling. All I wanted was a Band Aid.

There are few things we can be sure of in this world.

1) Gasoline will never again be less than $1.00 per gallon.
2) James Blunt is an alien.
3) And you can always expect the unexpected in almost any situation…trust me.

I Write the Songs That Make the Whole World Sing

Ever notice that a lot of songs bring out the worst in people?

Okay, let me clarify what I’m trying to communicate. Have you ever noticed that certain music can bring out an ugly, embarrassing persona when combined with either an enormous ego or a large quantity of alcohol?

Stupid Songs

I’ve seen even the utmost conservative businessman loose himself whenever the first few chords of “Sweet Home Alabama” shoot from the speakers. He’ll loosen his tie, unbutton his dress shirt, raise his drink and, with his New Jersey accent, give a rebel yell. (It always makes me cringe when I see the whole bar go nucking futs over this stupid song.)

Stupid Music Selections

I recently attended a wedding where I was reminded that you can take the girl out of Pittsburgh, but you can’t take the Pittsburgh out of the girl. The music selection made me cringe. At one point, the wedding party was dancing to that old KC and Jo Jo song from the late nineties. Who thought this was a good idea? First of all, the song’s played out – for at least eight years. Hell, I know all the words and I hate the song. Second, and most importantly, the name “KC and Jo Jo” sounds like a circus act featuring a dog and a bear.

A good majority of the wedding guests were well over 40, and therefore couldn’t relate to the borderline bubble gum selections. They sat out for most of the songs. Call me old fashioned or a lame ass, but I think the music selection for a wedding reception should be a little deeper, a little more unique, a little less like the cover songs of BackSync.

So why am I bringing all this up? The truth is that I’m a music connoisseur. That’s right – I buy it, I critique it and I make it. Therefore, I can complain about music.

So when you find yourself in a bass-thumping auto with a thug wannabe blasting some song about oral fixation and sticking “it” in your “moon pie,” tell that "thuggish" friend of yours to grow a brain, gain some self-respect and pay attention to the moronic lyrics.

And when you’re at a wedding and you hear the first few notes of a boy band song, feel obliged to get on the microphone and talk some sense into whoever planned the wedding.

And when you’re at a crowded bar and hear Pittsburgh red-neck wannabes hoot and holler for “Sweet Home Alabama,” get up and leave. Maybe go to Denny’s.

Hello!

Hello! Is anyone out there?

I come from the cyber cesspool where everyone has their own little “space.”

Perhaps “cesspool” is too harsh. Aside from the sex freaks and bad press MySpace has received in the past year or so, I think it’s safe to say that Tom and his crew have done quite an impressive job in expanding their little social site. There are now a number of organizations, interest groups and corporations associated with MySpace (yes, I did get a kick out of the recent Simpsons Movie ads). But sometimes bigger isn’t always better. Things get lost in translation – things like blogging.

I started blogging on MySpace a year and a half ago. People read my entries, posted comments and wrote their own blogs in response to mine – exchanging ideas in a cultural kind of way!

But something happened. The site became a media circus and people like that Tequilla girl were receiving major press (and I’ll be the first to say she’s a complete moron with less talent than my chest hair). Almost overnight, the site became a haven for sexed up coke fiends, cheaters, no-talent hacks, super megastars and complete, total losers who only seem to post bulletins containing stupid chain letters or surveys. The blog as I knew it was drowning in an ocean of retardation.

As blog comments dwindled, I began to think, “Is it time to break away from this madness and join up with a more reputable site?” So to make an unnecessarily long story slightly shorter, I joined up with blogspot.

Now if this site loses its way, I guess I’m out of luck (unless I want to pay for a domain name).