Transplant

Last night I had a very strange dream.

I was in the backseat of my mother's car, laying down, and my mother was driving. My sister was in the front seat and explaining the details of the medical procedure I was about to have. She then leaned over and put this thing in my mouth that looked like an inhaler for asthmatics, but it had this long connector thing that she pushed up into my mouth and down my throat. In case this isn't obvious, as it was to me in my dream, she was giving me anesthesia for the operation that we were traveling to. I had the feeling that for some reason, I had done something to interfere with the anesthesia's effectiveness and decided to worry about it later.

We pull up to the operation site, which turns out to be a Chinese androgynous person sitting on a little stool outside of an Oxxo or am/pm or one of those sleazy mart convenience stores and I get the feeling that he or she or it is my doctor and the operation that I'm about to have is some type of eastern new-age homeopathic procedure. In front of him, laying on the floor on a red blanket are his tools, scalpels and rusty looking sewing needles and blades and even a thimble, and I worry about infection. My sister tells me not to worry.

The doctor tells me to lay down on the ground and I do, but I tell him that I can still feel my stomach (interesting) and I imagine him slicing it open with the rusty blade. He tells me not to worry, and then tells me that he's already halfway done. I look up and see him holding my brain in his hands. He lets me look at it for a moment and I see that it is really gray and disgusting looking matter. There are scars all over it and holes in it and suddenly I feel very excited. I'm getting rid of this faulty brain and getting a brand new one.

A brain analyst comes out of the am/pm and hands a piece of paper to the doctor, and then walks back inside the store. The doctor looks at the paper for a moment and then shows it to me. Its a brain evaluation that they've just done on my brain, and the doctor points to areas on the paper, proving that the brain transplant had been absolutely necessary. I remember only one point from the printout: my IQ was only 90.

So the doctor shows me my new brain, which is huge and shiny and pink and throbbing like a heart in his hand. I'm ecstatic now, as I compare the brains side by side and see that my new one is going to be much, much better. But then I panic, there's something wrong. If the old brain is there and the new one is right next to it, what's inside my head right now?

So I ask the doctor, and he tells me that they haven't finished the procedure yet, but not to worry. You can still think, can't you? He asks. I think about it and realize that I can. I think, 2+2 is 4, 4+4 is 8, 8+8 is 16, 16+16 is 32, 32+32 is 64, yeah, I can still think.

Mysterious

It had just happened. Jimmy was too late to see it, arriving to the town square just a moment too late (from what he could surmise). He heard the screams before he’d seen the cause of them: the body of a man in a gray suit and tie lay dead in a pool of his own blood on the concrete of the square, directly in front of the very office building that Jimmy was going to.
“There’s a word for this, you know,” a man said loudly to the crowd that had gathered around the dead man. “It’s Defenestration.”
“No, it's Tragedy,” a very fat woman retorted, her hands on her large hips and her face screwed up into a grimace. “This kind of accident doesn’t need a fancy word to explain itself.”
“An accident?” the man gave a short laugh. “This man was defenestrated. Which means that somebody pushed him out of that open window on the twelfth floor. This was not an accident.”
The woman, wide eyed, looked up at the window and back at the man. “How do you know he didn’t jump, or fall out accidentally?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The man asked impatiently.

Restaurant Review

On Friday night CC took me out to dinner. We were going to go to Rosso, which is our favorite restaurant in Queretaro, but we've been there a million times before. Lately, they've been erecting restaurants like crazy here and we're a little behind on trying them out, so we decided to go to this restaurant called Equinoxio totally based on looks. We love trying out fancy restaurants and Equinoxio took the cake for being fancy looking. So we went.

Once inside, we realize that the food is this weird french-Mexican Indian fusion and that the chef got way too creative with the dishes. Basically, all the dishes were traditional Aztec or Yucatan or Oaxacan cuisine (think like chiles and nopales and even Cuitlacoche, which is literally diseased corn) fused with high end french food. The mix sounds like a terrible idea and even though Im usually so open with trying new foods, I couldn't decide on ANYTHING. So finally I settled on Baby Lobster with Fettuccine. I'd never heard of baby lobsters but I like lobster and love fettuccine. It was really the only thing that sounded at all edible. CC played it safe as usual and got steak.

So Im starving and the food takes forever to come, and when it does, the waiter places it down with a flourish in front of me and I look down at it and seriously almost start to cry. Im so hungry and we're at this fancy restaurant and I am unable to eat what they just served me.

Sitting on top of a bed of plain fettuccine noodles in some kind of beige butter sauce, are two crawdads.

For most of my childhood life, I lived on Bear Creek. On Bear Creek, we had a little canal that ran across our property. In the summertime it would fill with water and frogs, minnows, tadpoles, the occasional fish, and hundreds and hundreds of crawdads. My dogs would catch them and bite off their claws and eat them. The thought of eating one is equivalent to eating a cockroach. It's something I would never dream of doing. I know that people do eat them. But to me, they're a nasty nasty creature that grows in disgusting places like Bayous of dirty still standing mud water and in Bear Creek, where I believe they once found a three eyed monster fish.

Anyway, CC didnt believe me and thought I was being a huge drama queen. So we took them home and I showed him online what crawdads are (they dont exist in these parts) and he was finally also disgusted. Then I served them to Pippen and he didn't even want to eat them.

CC said that Equinoxio will fool 99 percent of the people who go in there into thinking that they're eating "baby lobsters". Maybe they think that's what they are serving. I should have said something but I think I'll write a letter instead.

Jack Dogger Disciplined

Last night Pippen got in big trouble. We took him to the park. It was late, around 10pm and nobody was around, so he was having a lot of no-leash fun as usual. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a chocolate lab puppy of about 10 months appeared on a leash and attached to him an owner. The chocolate lab puppy was really cute and happy, just kind of bouncing along, and then Pippen and the puppy saw each other. CC told Pippen to come, but instead, Pippen decided to attack the puppy and pin him to the ground while making scary growling noises. CC went to separate the dogs (the other dog was still on the leash and the owner looked petrified), and grabbed Pippen by the collar and spanked and verbally abused him all the way home. CC was pissed and Pippen was not allowed to come inside the house for about an hour. Now, Pippen is grounded until further notice. No more trips to the park.

I never, ever would have suspected Pippen to show signs of aggression towards anything except maybe a cat or a bird. Least of all not a dog, unless he was provoked and the dog was trying to fight him. I still think that the cute little brown lab said something derogatory to Pippen in dog language and he had no choice but to defend his honor-- that's the only explanation that makes any sense since Pippens is such a nice dog.

I think he deserves another chance. After all, this is his first strike. But CC is still very angry with Pippen. We are currently in talks over his future.

The only good thing out of all of this is that now we know that Pippen isn't as gay as we thought he might be, because of the fact that he only lifts his leg to relieve himself about 40 percent of the time.

Scientific Study

Directional Tail Waggage in Canines,
A Study:

It has been reported that dogs wag their tails to the right when they're feeling positive about someone or something, and to the left when they feel negatively about that someone or something. Right Brain Left Brain bla bla bla science. If this is indeed fact, will our cute little science experiments express their cute little emotions negatively or positively towards the cute little testing engineer? (Me)

*Full Tail Required to Participate as subject in this experiment
**I have left 3rd testing subject Suki out of this experiment, because stub movement is unreliable; suki is unable to produce full waggonal movement.

Hypothesis: Owners will walk into a room where the subjects will be and repeat their names over and over again in high pitched "baby talk" voices, which will result in significant right sided tail waggage. Test subject B predicted to show less right side waggage than subject A, Or, both A & B will produce 100% right-side waggage no left-side waggage whatsoever.

THE SUBJECTS:

A: Pepe Le Pieu
B: Daisy Mae

Notes: Theres lots of fluffy fur on subjects making it difficult to observe straightness of tail. Any freak tail curvature might taint results. And its pretty hard to get them wagging their tails (especially A) long enough without either A) test subject A Barking and backing up slowly, shaking its small, hair-framed head side to side with each bark, blocking view of rear view tail wag thats diminishing anyway on account of the barking (negative Reaction? Not likely) B) Test Subject A rushing at your feet and jumping up on your knees, demanding to be pet and to be given all attention, and refusing to wag tail if said attention is not given and standing still without wagging while receiving attention C) Test subject B running at your knees and running away again or backing up all hesitantly and sitting down and doing short brisk tail flips (to the significant right, but tail flips are not currently accepted as conclusive to the study). Scientist suggests using 2 scientists to conduct this experiment, one to interact with subjects and the other to watch and record wag movement.

RESULTS: Subject A produced significant left-sided tail wag and no right side tail wag in any of the trials. Tester feels this could be from the aggression the subject may have felt in fighting for total attention from experiment engineer/scientist against his competition: the tall leggy blonde subject B. In contrast, Subject B displayed an abundance of right-wag and body wriggle and absolutely no noted left-wag at all during the trials.

Unexpected Variable: When Father of genius experiment engineer/scientist (variable) entered testing site (the kitchen) and called out "Anybody want Chinese Food", engineer scientist noted subject A skulk away from kitchen and towards the front door, wagging his tail to the left while skulking away. When G.E. Engineer scientist extraordinaire went to said kitchen to serve herself said chinese food, the G.E.E.S.E. perceived immediately that the variable seemed to be exhibiting hypoglycemic behavior (a downward moodswing). At this point, subject B was nowhere in sight and when located was observed not wagging tail but sitting quietly watching the house from a significant distance.

Conclusion: Subject A hates everyone. Subject B loves everyone. Inconclusive results. Test subjects must be subjected to more tests. Uncontrolled environment.

Percent Error:

(50 - 45)

Percent Error = -------------------------------------------------- 1

x100%





=500% Error

Cooking and Infidelity

So today la Señora officially became my cooking instructor/cook in addition to being my cleaning lady. I asked her to show me how to make enchiladas, and then she did, and they turned out to be the best enchiladas that I have ever tasted in my whole entire LIFE. CC said that we should pay her extra for that, so that's what we're going to do.

So that's good, and little does she know that while she's teaching me to cook, she's also giving me SPANISH CLASSES (score). She talks a LOT, and I mostly just sit there and listen. Today she told me a story

about how she was working for this family that lived here in downtown Queretaro and one day the lady of the house asked her if she would accompany her to Mexico City for a doctor's appointment because her husband was working and she didn't want to go alone and the Señora said well I can't because I need to take care of my kids and I can't be gone all day long from 6AM until 1 or 2AM in the night. But the señora was desperate, so she begged and begged her to try to work it out because she really needed to go to the doctor, and so finally the Señora agreed. The next day she went to work and they got in the car and drove to Mexico City, and when they got there, the lady said "Look, I lied to you. I'm not here to see the doctor, I'm meeting a man. He's arriving at the airport in half an hour and I'm going to pick him up, and then we're going to go to a hotel. I'm going to drop you off at the park. I'll pick you up at 5pm." So she dropped her off at the park and so the Señora had to wait. She waited, and waited, and finally the lady showed up at the park at 9PM. Then they drove back home and that was it.

I just really can't believe that someone would make this sweet little old lady wait all by herself in a Mexico City park for so many hours with absolutely nothing to do. It's not like she reads, and since Mexico City is so dangerous, it's not like she could really explore the city, so I'm guessing that she just sat there for ten hours straight and only moved to find a restroom. And maybe to eat something on the street. I don't know. Selfish Ho.

My Dog, Pippen

My dog Pippen deserves a post. There's a lot to say about him.

First, My dog Pippen has a ton of nicknames. We call him

Pippens

Chickens

Trickens

Frickens

Rickens

The Baby

Richard Parker

Jack Dogger
Jessica

Pippen will eat anything. Once, when he was in pain, and I was too lazy to go downstairs and crush up his tylenol and mix it up into his food, I discovered that I didn't have to do all that. Pippen will gladly eat straight non-chewable tylenol like it's candy. He licked the floor when he was done so that he could get all the tylenol that fell out of his mouth while he was chewing. He also loves chewable antacids (who doesn't, though) and will come running when he hears the shake of the container. We give him one now and then because it's so funny.

He also eats frozen strawberries, bananas, and whole cucumbers. Anything.

CC and I had a conversation the other day on how much money we would sell Pippen for. I admitted that I would sell Pippen only to a farm with a good family where he would be happy, for 50,000. CC was much cheaper, he said he would sell him for 10.

Pippen's best feature is his Lip Curtain. When he thinks something is fun, he tucks it in so he looks like he's trying to smile. When he eats, it puffs out, like this:

Cheers!