Blogosis

For years, Diprivan has been a staple of hospitals around the world. It is primarily used in intensive care units and operating rooms as a powerful sedative. It has always enjoyed moderate usage, but for the past several months has been out of stock due to manufacturer outage. It simply can’t be produced fast enough to meet its demand and has sent pharmacies scurrying to get their hands on what little they can find. But what led to this sudden high demand? Why is this once plentiful medication so hard to come by? There is but one obvious catalyst in this great Dipivan shortage: the death of Michael Jackson.

It was a hot summer day in June and like a lot of multi-million-dollar, world famous musicians (and lowly night shift pharmacists), Michael Jackson couldn’t sleep. So he did what anyone else would do and consulted his live-in physician for a drug to help him get some zees. Dr. Conrad Murray chose Diprivan and the rest is history.

Diprivan became an overnight success. All the major TV stations were broadcasting its name 24 hours and it was on the first page of every newspaper in America. What was once a moderately well known drug, instantly became the King of Sedation. ICU’s all over the world wanted a piece of the fame, but there was only so much of the milky white star to go around.

Its manufacturer was not prepared for the boom. Diprivan was no longer just wanted by hospitals. Hollywood now craved it for photo shoots, interviews, and movie cameos. Paris Hilton actually tried to get it for a pet. It appears as if all the media attention and paparazzi because too much to handle and Diprivan has scarcely been seen lately. Until the manufacturer can regroup and get its celebrity med back to all those who crave it, other players in the sedative game such as Fentanyl and Versed will have to step up their play.

The one that thing Diprivan hasn’t knocked out is its own ego which has shot through the roof after its newfound popularity. It has been seen inside Los Angeles night clubs titrating the beat of the music down to a Ramsey score of -2 to -3 and rumored to be dating a Kardashian. US Weekly has noticed the arrogance as well and is now referring it as Divavan. Also of note is that when it was first discovered, Diprivan was a dark brown color, but changes in formulation over the years has changed it the pale white hue you see today.

An E! True Hollywood Story detailing the self proclaimed Milk of Amnesia’s rise to fame is set to begin production in May.

I found this website that reads the code of a webpage and somehow translates this into music. Stratosis.com sounds like a Jamaican homeless man setting the beat accompanied by a 6 year old learning how to play the piano. However, my facebook profile (facebook.com/stratosis) sounds like an outerspace symphony.

Try it out.

I’m not catholic, and I never really understood why people came to class with ashes on their foreheads. I thought they looked silly, but everyone else didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Today is Ash Wednesday, and countless numbers of noncatholics are going to be thinking the same thing when that cute girl on the other side of the room looks like someone just put a cigarette out between her eyes. This leads us to what preceded today, and where I was this past week off.

Mardi Gras!

Mardi Gras is the only holiday I can think of that came out because of another holiday. Ash Wednesday is when you’re supposed to repent of your sins and give up something like drinking, chocolate, or Facebook until Easter. Ok, maybe not Facebook.

The Fat Tuesday before Ash Wednesday is when you’re supposed to get all the sins in you can before you have to repent of them. The hilarity of this is that it happens every year. Moreover, people of Mardi Gras realized that one night wasn’t long enough to get in all the sins they wanted to get in, so they said, “Fuck it, let’s give ourselves two weeks.”

So thousands and thousands of people flock to New Orleans every year to get in all the possible sin they can while it’s still cool with the pope. This also attracts people who just want to sin for the hell of it, as well as those who just want to videotape people sinning.

The big stereotype is that girls show their boobs in exchange for beads. Not really. Yeah, I saw a handful of knockers while I was there, but they were mostly knockers better off left unseen. On top of that, to get in a position to see the boobs that you didn’t really want to see, you have to fight your way through Douchebags, Billys, Meatheads, and pervs with huge video cameras…all while avoiding the horse shit on the ground.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I had an awesome time and learned a valuable lesson about bourbon, overall, I would sum up Bourbon Street with one word: filth…and not the good kind of filth either.

Sorry for the picture, but if they can show it on the Discovery Channel, I say it’s ok for Blogosis.

Now that image is in your head, picture this scene:

15 year old African tribal girl has no vagina. No uterus either. We’ll call her Jane.

Jane has a boyfriend. How cute. We’ll call him Fred.

Jane gives head to a guy…who is not her boyfriend. His name is George.

Immediately after the BJ, Fred walks in and catches Jane cheating.

Fred gets mad and gets into a knife fight with George.

In the struggle, Jane accidentally gets stabbed into the belly.

George’s sperm falls out of Jane’s stomach gash and into her abdominal cavity.

And seeps into her fallopian tubes.

And fertilizes an egg.

Jane goes to hospital 9 months later and delivers a healthy baby boy via C-Section.

The end.

The fuck? Yeah this is a true story. ABC News earned its best headline ever. You can make that up. If you did, people would think…well…that you made it up.

The odds this exact chain of events goes down is beyond ridiculous. The time frame between swallowing the load and being stabbed in the gut would have had to be just minutes because the acidic stomach would have chewed up the sperm who can only really thrive in basic environments. This is like winning the lottery…three times. Only the opposite when it comes to quality the reward. Couple that with the whole no vagina thing and you’ve got a damn near paradox. By the way, the no vagina disease is called Müllerian agenesis or Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser Syndrome if you prefer the more selfish version. A shockingly high, 1 in 5000 women have it.

Talk about a pissed off George though. Dude is thinking he’s all sly by getting with his buddy’s girlfriend and the crazy bitch gets knocked up in a way his mom and dad told him wasn’t possible. Now he’s locked in for 18 years paying a child support of 20 roots, 10 berries, and an elephant hide a month.

That’ll teach him to watch his knife when he gets into fights immediately following a sexual encounter.

Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s cooooold out there today. Well, it’s 70 degrees here, but it’s probably cold where you are. Anyway, happy Groundhog’s Day, everyone.

This is one of those holidays that fascinated me as a kid. I think it was the mystery surrounding the whole holiday (I hesitate to use the term holiday) that really captivated me every February 2nd. This was the extent I was told about Groundhog’s Day:

“Every February 2nd, the groundhog comes out and if he see’s his shadow, there will be 6 more weeks of winter.”

That’s it. That’s all I got. This is what I had to wrap my childhood brain around and formulate some kind of sense out of it. Luckily for me, I required things to make little sense for me to accept them as absolute truth. I pictured a special groundhog that came out of a hole in the ground somewhere in the wild (I never bothered wondering where) with a few important scientists lurking behind a nearby tree to see if the groundhog casted a shadow or not.

It was a lot more plausible than a man flying around the world in one night delivering presents down chimneys and consuming ten tons of cookies.

The 6 more weeks of winter twist was an obligatory coincidence that never really got carried out and I accept that as well. Moreover, I never really knew when the end of winter officially was so whether it ended 6 weeks early of 6 weeks late, I never had any idea.

Recently, I realized that it probably wasn’t because I was a kid that I was so clueless about Groundhog’s Day. I think seven year olds and adults alike where just as confused about the mysterious surroundings of the early February American holiday. It’s probably why parents gave so little information to their kids about it, because they, too, could merely speculate about what really happens on Groundhog’s Day.

Enter Bill Murray. His smash hit 1993 movie Groundhog Day full of quotable quotes changed how Americans viewed February 2nd. On top of being hilarious, Groundhog Day gave us a real picture of what actually happens in Punxutawney, Pennsylvania. I think this information alone was worth the price of admission and a few VHS rentals at the local video store.

I was 10 when the movie came out and my jaw was stuck to the gum on the theater floor from how wrong my depiction of the scene was. If you by some chance are just waking up from a 17 year coma and have never seen the movie or ceremony, here is what happens with pictures included.

In a park filled elbow to elbow with tourists and newscasters stands a stage with a fake tree stump on it. A bunch of old men in top hats dressed like they’re in an 1850’s GQ magazine parade around and talk for a minute about how important they are. Then one of the old dudes goes to the tree stump and opens a little door, and pulls out the star of the show, Punxutawney Phil…who also has a silly little hat on. This is where it gets good. The old man holds Phil up to his ear and waits for several seconds. The then announces to the anxious crowd whether or not Phil said he saw his shadow or not.

And that’s it.

I’m sure there are people who honestly believe this weather prediction to be true. It’s hard to get an accurate historical count as to how correct Phil has been over the years, but he has only predicted an early spring 14 times since 1887. He’s definitely a glass-half-empty kind of groundhog.

To end your suspense, the little bastard saw his shadow again today, and he’s probably laughing about it right now. He can captivate the entire nation, deliver a complete fabrication, and ruin everyone’s day all at once. And he’s a groundhog.

Honestly, the fact that this tradition has maintained prominence for so long is why the terrorists hate America.

Blogosis doesn’t usually tap into the celebrity gossip world, but I couldn’t resist posting this incredible mug shot. Gary Coleman was arrested for domestic abuse charges in his Utah home the other day. Dude’s 41 years old and married to a 23 year old crazy bitch woman who was arrested her self back in the summer for destroying their home.

I really hesitate to even add commentary to this story because it’s hilarious in and of itself. Plus, it helps to be able to post wedding pictures like this one:

It’s hard for me to feel sorry for Gary Coleman, though. Sure he is the prototypical butt to all jokes celebrity, and his catch phrase has been abused far worse than his wife probably was. Oh, and he’s also 4 feet 8 inches. But he’s made a good bit of money being this cartoon character of a person as well as finding someone half his age willing to bang him. All this because he landed a child acting job a long time ago before he stopped growing. Without that, he’d just be a black midget in Utah…and it’s hard to be more screwed over than that.

I’m not a car person. I hear people talk about cars, especially old ones, and they might as well be talking the African click-clock language. A badass car to me would be one with a bunch of cool stuff on the inside like TVs, computers, back massagers, etc. Other than that, a car gets me from point A to point B. This also applies to under the hood type stuff. The extent of my car knowledge is that you put gas in it and it goes.

I have taken my extensive car expertise and applied it to this post. MSNBC put out an article about ugly cars. It was kind of fun going through them, but the biggest problem was that 9 out of the 10 cars were from the 1970’s and earlier. Well obviously those are going to be ugly. That’s like having an ugly shirt list and including classic disco shirts.

I have remedied the situation and developed my own top 5 list of ugly cars that you can see on the road today. Let’s get started.

#5: Ford Mustang

I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Damn, he’s right. He knows nothing about cars. The Mustang is awesome.” Well, I disagree and this is my list and not yours. Perhaps there is a little bit of bias injected into this as the Mustang, in high school, was the epitome of being a douchebag redneck. Wrap your head around that combination stereotype for a minute and welcome to my home town. The sight of a Ford Mustang takes me back the movie theater line and seeing hearing a parade of them driving around the parking lot with no mufflers and customized General Lee horns. I didn’t like them then, and I don’t like them now.

#4: Nissan Cube

This one almost falls into that famous paradox, “it’s so ugly, it’s cute.” The key to that statement though, is “it’s so ugly” and thus it makes the list. I remember when I first saw this car I wanted to vomit, but then I saw it again a couple weeks later and kinda wanted one. Then I saw it again…

#3: Pontiac Aztec

This one made the MSNBC list and when you Google ugly cars and look for images, it pops up more than most. And we all know, Google is never wrong. You might saw I copied MSNBC and Google for this one, but I posted the European version of the Aztec so it’s not quite the same.

#2: Smart Car

Ok, so it gets like 900 miles per gallon. Who cares? It’s hideous. It’s also the car that is most likely to get you killed in a wreck so it has that going against it as well.

#1: PT Cruiser - Woody

This car is beyond ugly. It’s simply gross. In a throwback to the old wooden station wagons, the PT Cruiser added the faux-wooden paneling to a version called, “Woody” but it doesn’t come close in enticing said title. Seriously, no one (in or out of their mind) could possibly see this vehicle and find it attractive. You can even say, “Well, maybe it’s pretty on the inside…that’s what counts,” because it’s not a person, it’s a car. It’s just grotesque. Then again, people like Indian jewelry so I guess there will almost be a niche out there for ugly cars as well.

The weather has been absolutely awful here in Arizona over the past week. Just horrid. I realize that most of the east coast is experiencing ice storms, freezing rain, and sub zero temperatures, but not taking that into consideration, it’s rained here for, like, four days in a row!

I forgot how bad I don’t like the rain. I don’t have an umbrella for lack of regular need, so when I am forced to walk from my car to my destination with the clouds open, I run. Well, I jog quickly at least. I don’t like getting drenched, and the wind is usually blowing which makes it cold and just overall not very pleasurable.

So this leads me to a pet peeve I have regarding this. I loath watching people walk in the rain like it’s not raining outside.

You know what I mean? It’s usually a guy and he doesn’t walk any faster than he normally would. He doesn’t even do the “act like you’re in a room with a low ceiling.” (demonstrated in the picture above) He just walks like it’s sunny outside in an apparent act to prove what a badass he is. Yeah, we get it. You have a better ability to withstand water pounding your head than me. Congrats. I’ll be the guy with dry clothes waiting inside the building to contratulate your wet ass when you get there.

Am I the only one who doesn’t really give a shit about Haiti? See that picture above? That is before the earthquake, not after…and you couldn’t even tell.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not pro-destruction, I don’t root for natural disasters, nor do I hate Haitians (or foreigners in general). But this is kind of like if a tornado took out all the alleys where homeless people live. They had terrible, miserable lives before this earthquake, and not one seemed to care then. Sure there were a few missionaries down there trying to meet their Jesus conversion quota and some medical staff buffing up their resumes, but there weren’t Haiti telethons a few weeks ago.

Now all of a sudden it’s this cool, sexy, trendy fad to donate money to Haiti. It’s like breast cancer awareness month on steroids. I think this is what gets me most. I support helping other in crisis (as long as its not me), but the fact that it has become the latest fashion trend is just absurd. Donating to Haiti is the new black.

What I don’t understand is why didn’t the California earthquake get hot? They had a 6.5 (Haiti had a 7.0) a week before and no one really seemed to care.

Time to get philosophical. What if the same earthquake occurred in Afghanistan? It affected the same number of people in the same way. Assuming no American soldiers were injured, would we give the same relief effort? We are in a war with Afghanistan (sort of) so would we be happy so many people died? Would we be dishing out money via text messages to help all the little Afghan babies with no mommies? I would say not. But why not? Aren’t we all humans? Shouldn’t we all help each other and Tweet about it?

Good news for Red Cross though. The economy was hurting their business for a while. I even read somewhere a couple months ago that they cashed a check for tens of thousands of dollars that bounced. Nothing like a good internet meme to replenish the stock pile.

Oh, and this just in. George Bush doesn’t care about Haitians either.

During my break, I got another hate mail.

Sweet.

This one comes from a Bryan and can be seen in the comment section of the Junior’s getting a new number post. For you lazy bastards, here is what he said:

I know this is an old post, but I don’t care, this has to be said. Don’t bash people on welfare for being ignorant NASCAR fans in the same sentence you use exuberant instead of exorbitant. Hey, at least you spelled the wrong word correctly. You also left out the word “the” somewhere, but one step at a time, right?

Hi, Bryan. Good to hear from you. Good catch on by exuberant/exorbitant flip flop. Next time I’ll make sure I use the right four syllable word so that redneck bashing can be substantiated. I reread the post, and didn’t catch the omitted ‘the’ but if I did, then please accept my most most humble apology for a typo that had no effect on the message of the post.

What I can’t figure out though, Bryan, is whether or not you are a NASCAR fanatic yourself or you are just defending them. Your far superior writing ability would indicate your a fellow of higher education, but that wouldn’t necessarily rule you of out of having to rework your number 8 tattoo. Maybe defending your family? (By the way, half my family fits the NASCAR stereotype so my freedom to make fun of these people is broader than average)

Either way, if you want to attack the actual message as opposed the medium in which it was delivered, the comment section is wide open.

Oh, and you spelled your name wrong.