Ahh-Choo! Now touch my face.

Universities are closing down, people are calling into work in epic numbers. So what's the deal with the swine flu? Why are we as a country so paranoid that every time a geezer sneezes, you have a 95% chance of contracting H1N1 or the swine flu as it's notoriously labeled. Almost everyone I've talked to in the past week has mentioned this "pandemic". I'd say half of them are worried they might contract it but let me hit you with some knowledge real quick (some factual knowledge, but mostly just my opinion). I'm going to try to neutralize the pandemonium from my little corner of the blogosphere.

In the 2008-09 flu season (1/6/08-1/3/09), the CDC (Center for Disease Control) had 1,173 positive tests for influenza. This is just samples that were tested. Many people get the seasonal flu and just puke their faces off in the privacy of their own homes. So you have to belive that there are thousands of unreported cases also. Currently, the swine flu has 160 cases nationwide in 2 weeks. I'm not impressed. The bird flu was much more impressive. It killed 60% of the people it infected. We still have a bird flu kit at work. It sits in the stockroom under the eyewash station that nobody uses. It's got mostly gloves and masks in it. Enough for about 50 people. Considering the fact that we have 350 employees, I'm not sure it would be too effective in a massive outbreak.

Telling people to wash their hands and to cover their mouths when they sneeze and cough is upsetting to me. This should be common knowledge! Why don't people know how to do this? If people did these things regularly, we'd all be fine. It wouldn't eliminate influenza completely, but it would cut down on it quite a bit. The CDC website also suggested that you "throw used tissues in the waste basket." Listen up handkerchief users (geezers)! Throw those snot rags out and grab a Kleenex.

So, to recap:

- Don't touch or lick a pig's face and/or lips.
- Don't eat raw pork.
- Wash your hands.
- Stay away from farmers.
- Never use a handkerchief.

The one thing I've noticed about face masks this week is that I don't call them face masks anymore. It's a weird reflex to call them SARS masks. Wheels mentioned something about a SARS Guard. That's a nice sounding term.

Hopefully, as this global disease runs its cycle, the media will stop feeding the masses bowls of worry with sidedishes of fear. Especially the elderly. C'mon, they believe nearly everything they see on TV. Finally, I'll end this post with a wish.

I wish I could laugh in the faces of everybody who has worn a face mask in public in the last two weeks. Except for people who really are sick, doctors and people who work in dusty environments.

This Is How We Do It

So usually on Friday nights, Nikki and I will venture out the suburbs to mingle with our friends (namely the Kates, Cari, Josh) and to see Krystal, Gresham's finest bartender. The girls usually talk about each other's issues and drama that ensued in the week while I pound PBR's, watch reruns of SportsCenter and make fun of the karaoke talent (or lack thereof).

This last Friday was a doozy. Nikki had been begging me to sing some karaoke and I was having no part of it. I've performed in the past (the greatest stage performance ever) and didn't feel like making an ass of myself.

She hadn't eaten since late that morning and was only going to have a couple of drinks. That would have been fine...if her bartender was anyone else but Krystal. See if you order a Rum & Coke from Krystal, you'll get 8 parts Rum and a half part of Coke. Nikki stuck to her guns and only had three drinks. Soon the anxiety fairy left the bar and Nikki was singing (her go-to song) Push by Matchbox 20. Meanwhile, I stopped playing pool to cut-a-rug with some Amish-looking dude who was dancing like Jim Spagg in a gay pride parade. I broke Nikki's concentration several times as the Amish guy tried breakdancing.

After unsuccessfully ordering food, she decided that water would be the best for her sudden nausea. She got about two sips into the H2O before excusing herself to the bathroom for a vomit conference with the sink, toilet, garbage can, and any poor soul who was in the stall trying to dump in peace. Now I've been witness to many of her puking sessions in the last 3 or 4 years and they are really loud and they tend to be quite messy. So as I sent her sister in the bathroom for consolation purposes, I watched as girl after girl entered and exited the bathroom, staring in amazement at my puking pale princess going down on the garbage can.

She finally came out of the bathroom, a wobbly fuckin' stumbler, with her arm draped around Cari. I had never seen her so drunk as she was leaving the bar. I helped Cari assist her outside and to the edge of the parking lot when Nikki decided that more alcohol needed to escape and touch the pavement. I would say this was a bad night to wear flip-flops. My feet caught the vomit rebound as it ricocheted off the asphalt. To further avoid the bile runoff, I moved my feet as far away from ground zero as possible, a move I'd mastered in a previous episode.

I ended up pulling the car around and grabbing some plastic bags from the back seat to act as a barrier between Nikki's insides and the upholstery of the car. I finally got her home after a few dry heaves and put her on the couch with a garbage can to catch any future deposits. It was about 1:30AM when I finally fell asleep, only to have to report to work in 4 and a half hours.

The moral of the story? There isn't one really...well maybe one. Don't ever puke on my feet. Ever.

Your Body is a Wonderland?..Mine isn't.

If there's an event that I am guaranteed to tell everyone I know about and could possibly tell the same person two or three times, it's when somebody's body does something it normally would not do. Somebody pees their pants? Awesome! Somebody crapped in the hallway? Excellent! Somebody tore three of the four ligaments in their knee? Ouch!

I had a front row seat to one of these gems while riding the MAX on Tuesday night. You may have read an earlier blog about my "fascination" with the Metropolitan Area eXpress. I had another run-in with "The Person Who Couldn't Hold Their Liquor." (Scroll down that entry and you'll know what I'm talking about.) This one was pretty "up there" as far as sick shit is concerned. Although it's nowhere near what Carly had experienced on the Skytrain, it's still an experience. So I'm on the MAX with Nikki. It's about 11:30PM. A girl stumbles onto the train, escorted (or carried) by a gentleman who was about my age. "It's her 21st birthday," he exclaims as he plops her down into a seat. She is virtually dead except for a little groan here and there. I believe I turned to Nikki at this point and said, "she's gonna puke here in 2 minutes." Scratch that shit, it wasn't 90 seconds later and she started to pull herself forward while drooling on her own leg. "Here we go," I said as I moved my feet as far away from this girl as possible, fearing my awesome white Nikes would be abused by a bile and alcohol mix that would overcome me and make me vomit in my mouth.

As the first shots of liquored-goodness came flowing out of her mouth and hit the ground, people started to disperse! Like a damn fire alarm went off! It was madness. I got up and moved toward the door, wanting to fling myself out rather than watch. I almost grabbed my phone to take a picture, but I felt that wouldn't be fair to the poor girl who wanted to pickle her liver on her first night as a legal drunk. I'll spare my loyal readers a description of the puddle this girl was leaving not only on the floor, but in her own shoes, on the guy's pants next to her, on her clothes, etc..

Our stop was next thank God, as the foul odor of vodka and God knows what was invading the other passengers airways. I jumped off the train as it stopped, gasping for fresh air and watching the disgusted faces of the passengers who weren't quite home yet. Then Nikki and I laughed. Then she said, "I think I saw a boot come out of her," (from the Wedding Singer) prompting me to burst into laughter.

It was sheer horror and comedy all rolled into one as another memorable moment on the MAX ended.

The image below made me laugh....plus he's wearing a Hartford Whalers shirt. Honoring the Whale the only way he knows how.