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Posts Tagged ‘boy’

Franken-boy turned six recently.  The wrap-around in the title has more to do with a python wrapped around a limb this weekend than any intellectual exercise.

Some weekends we usually go to this small coffee shop a half hour away and hang out with my buddy from the UofM.  About a month ago we were there and we had someone give us a flyer to a reptile zoo.  We offered to the boy the chance to have his birthday party with a bunch of snakes and lizards or Chuck E. Cheese’s.  I would argue that either place gives you snakes and lizards but the zoo has higher-quality ones.

Here is the question:

Do six year old boys like birthday parties if they involve snakes and lizards?

Do frogs have watertight assh*les?  Of course they do!  Are bears Catholic?  Does the Pope crap in the woods?  Do Occupy America losers sniff their own farts?

We got the party favors, Cruel Wife baked a snake-cake, we brought in pop, and we made a pizza run partway through the party.

What was there?  Glad you asked, because that is what I asked.  There were:

  1. Pythons
  2. Chameleons
  3. Tortoises
  4. Bearded Dragons
  5. Blue-Tongued Skinks (minor disappointment on my part when I learned that it was skinks and not skanks, but in the context we were working in, skinks really made more sense)
  6. Boas
  7. Rhino Iguanas (will charge anything but didn’t use a single credit card while we were there)
  8. Monitor lizards
  9. Crickets (food)
  10. Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches (maybe food)
  11. Scorpions†
  12. Tarantulas‡
  13. Brazilian Pink Salmon Bird Eating Tarantula (say that even once really fast, I dare you)
  14. Uromastyxes
  15. More criters
  16. Still more critters
  17. And more critters

† My least favorite animal  (tied for first place with earwigs)

‡ My second least favorite animal

The coolest part was near the end where they brought out some of the animals and let the kids hold them.  Blue-Tongued Skinks are cool.

The boy grinned from ear-to-ear with a big cheesy grin when he got to hold a real-live snake.  He was in awe when a 20 foot python hung down from it’s branch and was 6 inches from the boy’s nose (separated by glass).  Boy and snake stared at each other for minutes and minutes, which is pretty good for an autistic kid.

Meanwhile we were monitored by the Monitor Lizard who stood on it’s hind legs and monitored us as we went through the exhibits.  He did his job well.

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I saw the pain clinic people again today.  I have officially given in and reluctantly agreed to higher doses of painkillers.  After months of the worsened state of discomfort from the herniated discs I gave up, especially since the neck and head are killing me (figuratively) and the arm and hand don’t feel all that much different from being scalded with hot water.   The only thing this afternoon that kept me from chopping my arm off at the elbow was the knowledge that it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

No, painkillers don’t help all that much for chronic pain but they take the sharp screaming edges off.

Friday is the meeting with another surgeon, and hopefully this guy will have a better solution.

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After much thought after the fact I have come to the conclusion that last week I did indeed have swine flu.  Last week I was too damn sick to care, though.

If you think you’re coming down with it, this site might be useful but you might see it in a more favorable light after you have recovered.

Honest, you’d not have seen me laugh at it last week.  This week it has a certain dry entertainment value.  Seriously, if you start running a raging fever, contact your doctor before the nasty bastard cough kicks in.  It all comes on pretty quick so within a day you’ll know if you’re sick or if you’re just being a weenie.  You’ll know.  You won’t need a FAQ sheet to know you’re sick.

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As hinted at in yesterday’s post titled “My Own Porch”, Hellboy (my male progeny) had a fountain fall on him.  It was a steel fountain.  Heavier than sin and twice as ugly.

The fountain fell on the three-year-old boy in the picture below.

gashed Hellboy

Hellboy with 16 stitches and a huge headache.

The story unfolded in the usual fashion, with great commotion and hysteria.  Not undeserved commotion at all, however.

Suddenly I heard a great deal of shouting and someone came around the corner screaming “Hellboy is hurt bad!”

I walk outside thinking “Ok, so he broke a finger or something…”

I arrive and am faced with a scene of outright carnage.  Blood is all over the boy, Cruel Wife is crying and trying to hold his thrashing body still with pressure to his head, in-laws have ahold of his little arms and legs, and the boy is shrieking.  Blood is splashed on the concrete.

I look over and see the now-toppled Fountain of Doom.  Notice how it hit hard enough to knock a 15lb paver out of the ring the fountain was in.

foutain of doom

Click to embiggenify the image.

I run inside and am looking for a phone.  Can’t find a phone.  Can’t find a phone.  Can’t find a damned phone!  Damn rental places!  Turns out they didn’t have one.  I whip out my cell phone and dial 911 and give them the address.  I tell them he’s got a huge laceration on his forehead and that he appears to be bleeding from the nose, which has me a bit concerned.  At this point I’m thinking injury in the sinus region and envisioning all manner of crushing injuries.

I ran to find GirlHead, who was distraught.  She wanted to see her brother and go with us.  I forcefully but gently assured her that she did not want to see him and that I would not permit it, and let her know that when it was ok to come see him I’d have one of her uncles drive her over to the hospital.

Three years pass and the ambulance arrives.  Cruel Wife and Hellboy move as a unit onto a stretcher and I ride shotgun.  The hospital is only 5 minutes away but takes hours to get there.

The ER staff expertly took him for CT scans and found him to be ok.  Noticing that he had a bunch of exposed bone in the wouund they went about preparations and stitched him up.  He was tough enough through the whole procedure, only crying twice – once as they injected the wound with epinephrine to slow the bleeding and lidocaine to deaden the area for stitching, and the second time was on the last stitch where the lidocaine hadn’t quite covered the eyebrow area.

I swelled with pride at how tough he was.  I told him that I’ve seen BIG GUYS carry on more than that for less, myself included.

The next day Hellboy was running a fever which gave us cause for alarm and he was put on antibiotics for that.  As it turned out he had the same fever/flu that I later came down with but either way the antibiotics were a good idea.

The rental owners had only this to say:  “Well, he shouldn’t have been climbing on the fountain.”   For legal reasons I won’t go into the specifics of the fountain itself other than to say that no engineer would have signed off on that monstrosity and that it is amazing that it even stood in the first place.

Sadly, for the rest of the week the pool and hot tub were off limits to Cruel Wife, Hellboy, and myself.  Only GirlHead was able to have access to the water.

A side note.  While we were gone and before any adult thought of it, my girl ran to find materials and started making a get-well card for her brother.  It said “Hirt bad get wel soon” and had all sorts of flowers and stickers on it and her name spelled out as pretty as can be.  Now if that isn’t enough to bring a tear to a daddy’s eye, I don’t know what is.

The rest of the week was spent going from place to place in Seattle, and the high point of that for me was visiting Pike St. Market and getting a Pork Hombow.

pork hombow

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So, they speak kindly of the dog but… did he get a Scooby Snack?

Wasn’t the dog’s fault.  It was the kid’s fault for having a shell chambered and no safety on.  Read the article.  Nowhere did the reporter catch the important part, that is, WHY did the shotgun go off?  He was real good about capturing dad and son’s warm fuzzy feelings about the dog but not the facts – the kid is lucky he still has a head – but that’s not important.

Oregon Man Shot by Dog During Hunting Trip

Sunday , November 23, 2008

PORTLAND, Ore. —
Henry Marcum has nothing but kind words for the dog that shot his 23-year-old son this weekend.

Marcum says his son, Matthew, was standing in Tillamook Bay at the start of duck-hunting trip when his dog jumped into the boat, setting off a 12-gauge shotgun.

The blast blew a hole in the aluminum boat before hitting Marcum, who is recovering from injuries to his legs and buttocks at Portland’s Legacy Emanuel Hospital.

Henry Marcum says he’s not angry with the dog, and neither is his son.

The elder Marcum says the Labrador named Drake is a good dog and the shooting is “just one of those things.”

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This makes my day.  No, it makes my year and perhaps my decade.

Scalding him in boiling oil seems appropriate.

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Like I’ve said to so many other beggars… Just where do you think the money is coming from, anyway, Ohio?

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Oh.  That’s different.

Bob Westfall, who was in Breckenridge on Saturday as an observer for Norm Coleman, said he had concerns when members of his team learned a ballot counter had worked for Franken.
“I don’t understand how you can switch from being partisan one day to being neutral today,” Westfall said.

Vertin, who’s an election judge in Wilkin County, said she volunteered to help with the recount because she wanted to be part of the historic process.

wtf???…

Vertin, who lives in Breckenridge and has a cabin in Otter Tail County, said she was able to set her politics aside to help with the recount.

“I feel I can be completely unbiased,” Vertin said. “Everyone in this room is partisan to some degree.”

later…

Secretary of State Mark Ritchie said he was not familiar with what occurred in Wilkin County, but he has confidence in the county election officials.

“It’s not my job to second-guess county election officials,” Ritchie said Saturday.

To the sec of state Ritchie… if it’s not your job to oversee allegations of possible impropriety (such as this massive conflict of interest) then what IS your job?

Anybody in an important position either knows what “conflict of interest” means – or if they don’t, they oughtn’t be there in the first place.

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This didn’t strike them as odd the first time it happened?

Boy, 12, Dies From Excessive Deodorant Use

A coroner in Britain has determined that a 12-year-old boy died after using too much spray deodorant in a confined space, according to a report from abc.net.au.

Daniel Hurley collapsed in a January after spraying on Lynx deodorant in the bathroom of his Derbyshire home.

An inquest was told last week that a “volatile” agent in the deodorant upset the boy’s heart rhythm.

He was hospitalized after the incident and died five days later from a cardiac arrhythmia, also known as abnormal heart rhythms, according to the report.

The boy’s father, Robert Hurley, told the inquest that Daniel was fit and healthy. He also took pride in his appearance, using hair gels and deodorants, which he often sprayed all over his clothes.

The coroner said it was combination of the deodorant and the fact that it was sprayed in a confined space that caused the adverse effect on the boy’s heart.

His death followed an incident several weeks earlier when he had collapsed in the bathroom but quickly recovered, according to the report.

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You just can’t make this stuff up.  Just the term “naturist hardliners”… priceless.

Report: French Nightclubs Burned Down in War Between Nudists, Swingers

One of Europe’s most famous nudist colonies has become the subject of an unusual investigation by French detectives after the destruction of three nightclubs in fires blamed on naturist “hardliners.”
The normally peaceful Cap d’Agde, a magnet for nudists in the south of France, has been plunged into anxiety as investigators suspect “fundamentalist” nudists of harboring a grudge against the échangistes, or swingers, who are drawn to the town by the promise of sex.

A so-called boîte échangiste — or wife-swapping club — called Glamour, where couples engage in group sex, was the first to be destroyed in April. The next day, the Palme Ré, another orgy venue, also went up in flames. In September, the Tantra club and Zen, its neighboring bar, were leveled in blazes.

No one was hurt but the fires have shocked a community whose crime rate has been dominated until now by cases of exhibitionism.

Tensions have risen between the naturists, who believe that nudity is a healthy choice of lifestyle and nothing to do with sex, and the échangistes, who are attracted to nudist camps by the prospect of multiple partners.

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