Have you ever had an appointment and despite the reserved time slot they promised you, you still have to sit around for another 45 minutes and wait? Every time I go to the doctors this happens to me. I show up to my appointment on time, which is so far off course for me to do in any other subject of my life, and I still have to sit around. Then I’m stuck sitting in the waiting room with all 5 choices of magazines they order: Fortune, Parenting, Reader’s Digest (with the extra large print), Highlights, and Travel. All acceptable magazines I suppose, if I were 50 years old or 5 years old.

The laws of a waiting room are simple. You do not sit in the chair directly next to somebody, you do not talk on your cell phone for someone to over hear, and if you know you are sick, be sure to cover your mouth when you cough. There always seems to be one schmuck that walks into the waiting room violating all these non enforced but respectful codes. Typically it’s a middle aged lady with her child. She storms in while talking on her cell phone about the latest PTA problems dragging her snotty child across the room. Then when she goes to sign in, she sets her cell phone down without hanging up and scrapes through her purse to find her insurance card. Finally after collecting the stale bag of pretzels she has dropped on floor she takes a seat while sick child plays with the given toys set aside in one of the corners. Where does the lady take a seat? In the chair directly next to you, still ranting about how awful of a job Sally Jones is doing as the PTA president. That is of course followed by her germed up child running over to sit on her lap which always ends up in him coughing on you and wiping his nose on his sleeve. (And of course the mother pays absolute no attention) Mean while you look around for a magazine that sparks your interest, but none really do, and most are torn up by the previous reader. All you really have left to do at this point is listen in on other people’s conversation. But nobody’s conversation is ever as interesting as the ladies that work behind the front desk. Their chat usually entails something that requires very little thought, but a lot of gossip.

By the time you are called back, you can glance at these licensed vocational nurses confidently knowing where their life is heading. (And who they hooked up with last night.) So you finally got to the back, you smile back at everyone else still waiting. You can’t help but to feel good about the fact your name got called, even though you are at the doctor’s office. You start out with the typical blood pressure, weight, temperature routine. Then they ask you what the problem is as if you didn’t write that down somewhere when you signed in. (Or when you called in to make your appointment.) So, you in detail give the nurse your symptoms expecting him/her to have a response for you, but they don’t and they leave you sitting in the cold room all alone as you sit on a piece of tissues paper type stuff that you have already ripped. Another ten or so minutes have passed; you’ve already read every sign on the wall 4 times over. You fully understand to warn the nurse or doctor if you have a latex allergy, or that lab results take at least for days to come back. FINALLY the doctor walks in, says hello in an almost slurred speech and once again asks what is wrong with you. How many people must you explain to your symptoms? It’s at this point of my doctors visit I begin to feel jipped. The Doctor then hardly looks you over, writes up a prescription and walks out. I’ve spent an upwards of an hour to wait and see a doctor for 2 minutes, and now my crappy HMO requires me to pay $15 visit fee. I think the $15 dollars covers a temporary rent fee for sitting.

Jesus, why do you hate me?

Okay, maybe not.

After a really, really long time looking at girls eat poop on the internet reading educational sites on the web, I’ve come to one conclusion about the internet. This conclusion is summed up simply by the oracle that is Explosm.net:

Although I’m a big fan of naked people, occasionally I have to pick up a spare apple pie and enema kit and thus don a shirt for the outside world. This week I purchased the following shirts, be like Mike, err, me and follow my lead:

Uneetee.com “Where Is My Happy Face?“by Yoshi Andrian Amtha:

and… my second purchase and reprint of this one from Threadless.com and Danny Christopher:

I suspect Hillary Clinton is running for president because she’s a neo-con republican in disguise and is hoping to destroy the democrats enough to help another republican win. I appreciate her effort as the USA needs to go bankrupt as fast as possible. Another republican in office is exactly what the USA needs, maybe China will fully remove the peg on the dollar in 2009, and OPEC in 2008. Full on failure of the USA economic system will allow me to be the next “The Postman” ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119925/ ), I think I’d look hot in tattered postal uniforms and a racing pedigree donkey.

Kucinich vs Paul for 2008! Because my gardener Jesus would certainly be proud.