Regular readers of Splatospheric know that Tuesdays and I get along about as well as Madonna and Lady Gaga. (See here and here.) And tomorrow’s not looking so good for a truce.
It’s Election Day, an occasion that gets in our face and reminds us just how polarized our country is right now. I, for one, don’t need the reminder. The three month barrage of breathtakingly hyperbolic campaign ads from both sides has made it impossible to ignore.
It’s Election Day, an occasion that gets in our face and reminds us just how polarized our country is right now. I, for one, don’t need the reminder. The three month barrage of breathtakingly hyperbolic campaign ads from both sides has made it impossible to ignore.
I’d rather have my eyeballs plucked out by a mob of demented chickens than be subjected to one more of these stupid one-sided ads. Unfortunately, finding demented chickens on short notice is harder than you might think, so I went with the best available alternative to put me out of my electoral misery tomorrow: I scheduled oral surgery.
The periodontist gave me a series of prescriptions to fill before the procedure and instructions to start taking one of them—methylprednisolone—today.
Most medicines go by a nickname for retail purposes. I can’t find one on or in the package, so I’m going to go ahead and give it one. Hereafter, my methylprednisolone shall be known as “Mulligan.” (If I follow the directions for today’s dosage, I’ll end up taking more Mulligans than Rodney Dangerfield in Caddyshack.)
The box of pills came with two pages of single-spaced literature printed in a font called "Lillputian." As I’ve mentioned before, I have a policy of ignoring fine print. But I made an exception this time because everyone knows that two names are synonymous with “steroids”: “Barry Bonds” and “Mulligan.” I can’t afford to have any blemishes on my record when I make a run for swimming gold in the 2016 Olympics.
Page two of the drug literature contained the all-important list of precautions. Number five on the list reads as follows:
“Psychic derangements may appear when corticosteroids are used, ranging from euphoria, insomnia, mood swings, personality changes, and severe depression, to frank psychotic manifestations.”
I’d been worried about encountering long lines at the polls if I followed my plan to vote after my gum graft tomorrow. But now I see that I’ve mapped it out perfectly. Nothing will launch me to the front of the queue faster than showing up drooling and exhibiting frank psychotic manifestations.
"I’d rather have my eyeballs plucked out by a mob of demented chickens..."
ReplyDeleteLet's start a band.
Great idea! Since actual musical talent is no longer a requirement, I'm preeminently qualified.
DeleteI also hate stinking election day! Love your plan to schedule surgery! My birthday is almost always on or just after or before election day. It was only fun once, the time that there were all the double punched ballots and I went to bed after they kept announcing who was president and then taking it back. We also had tornado warnings, which made it like the most fun ever! (Oddly, not sarcasm.) This year, I plan to vote and then close myself in a closet, only to emerge three days later and see what's left. :)
ReplyDeleteI can't quibble with your plan, either. I can't imagine that a codeine haze will enhance the election day experience but I may have to try it. In the name of science, you understand.
DeleteHahaha, you named your meds. And your voting scheme is brilliant, my dear. I too, am sick of all the nonsense and may even boycott Twitter/Facebook tomorrow. However, I will certainly vote like A BOSS and plan to spend my evening watching the results and cursing the fact that I can't have a damn drink to ease the pain.
ReplyDeleteNo need to curse when you can come north and enjoy my stash of post-procedure pain-easing meds! (Yes, it's sad that this is what I'm looking forward to tomorrow.) I wholeheartedly endorse your social media boycott!
DeleteI wish you the best of luck on both your impending oral surgery and the election.
ReplyDeleteI am glad I don't have to deal with either. ;-)
Thanks, Dawn! Now that I'm all hopped up on steroids i feel like I could lift a car, so the voting lever and a little oral surgery should be a piece of cake. I might have to puree the cake, but still...
ReplyDeleteWay to continue our "Lilliputian" thread! :) I'll check in on ya later!
ReplyDelete