Squatlo Incites Rant; I Miss Marie


So. Here we are in the middle of February 2011, and Austin’s weather continues to define the words “fickle bitch”. Last week we had a hard freeze to maybe 18 or 19 degrees overnight, and where the daytimes didn’t crack freezing. Yesterday, it’s 84 fucking sweat-box degrees.

Why does 84 seem so hot in February when it’s a cold front in August? Texas politicians are great weather humorists. We’ve got Mother Nature bitching at us, showing humans the manifestations of her pain and sufferings. Earthquakes by the dozens in Arkansas [for shitsakes], super-record rainfalls, extreme temperature turnarounds and an endangered species list of plants and animals– fuck that, the endangered lists for ALL living things are growing exponentially.

But Texas politicians? “What global warming?”

Scary to me is that we haven’t been keeping a list on endangered microscopic lifeforms. Personally, I think that’s where man’s demise will occur. See, man’s endangerment from microscopic life forms won’t come from the loss of existing microscopic buggies. Nope. What is going to wipe us off the face of the earth will be bacteria and fungi strains that morph into super bugs because we are so fucking stupid.

Take, for example, some of the super bacteria living the high life in hospitals today. Years of over/wrong-prescribing antibiotics, combined with lazy health care workers who DON’T WASH THEIR FUCKING HANDS , has stimulated the mutation of bugs formerly known as “nasty, infectious microscopics” into what we cleverly call “super bugs”.

When Dr. Sam I. Am-Johnson’s mom was in the hospital, in the first event of a chain that ended in her death, she was in Intensive Care after getting a blocked artery fixed. She had a stroke during the operation and was in for a long recovery.

I was in the room with her only after I scrubbed my silly ass raw to insure I could safely approach her. I’m sitting there talking to her, telling her how she and I were going to cook Christmas Eve dinner together. She was Italian and always prepared this huge Italian feast. And I hepped!

I was asking her how spicy we could make the sausage this year, what with all the new medications she would be taking. She couldn’t talk back to me, so I was messing with her, you know, I would say we’d prepare things that she would never permit to come from her kitchen. I said shit like, “OK, Marie, for a first course let’s do Vienna sausage on toothpicks. I’ll make a spicy mustard dipping sauce,” and she’d narrow her eyes at me then give me that adorable half-smile stroke victims can give you.

I loved that woman with all of my heart. When she was alive, I had two best friends.

Anyway, I was asking her about how much crushed red pepper flakes we’d be putting in the sausage when a nurse walked into the room. She was new to me and the first of the new 3 pm shift to enter the room as well. From the doorway, she brightly said, “OK, let’s take your vitals and change your diaper.”

Then she walked straight to the bedside and grabbed my ex-mother-in-law and best buddy’s wrist. Bitch didn’t wash in the sink [located right at the entrance] and did not put on gloves. It took my ADHD-addled brain maybe four seconds to register events. “Take your dirty fucking hands off her!”

I wasn’t quite screaming, but I have a big voice, and it carries. When the bitch nurse ignored me, looking now impatiently at her watch as she counted Marie’s pulse, I leaned across the bed and thumped the woman’s nose and said, “I said step away, and now!”

That last part was yelled.

“You didn’t wash your fucking hands you dirty country whore,” I said. At least that is how it’s remembered in family lore.

Dirty country whore nurse bitch pushed the “Code” button by the bed, or course, and the room quickly filled with medical staff. None of whom WASHED THEIR FUCKING HANDS .

Anyway, Marie, my sweet, wonderful Marie, died a couple months later when a doctor botched a feeding tube insertion and Sammie’s mother died from one of the aforementioned super bugs.

The bacteria that killed her was a vicious little bastard that makes his way through hospitals, going room-to-room on the hands of careless workers.

OK, I digressed my point. That would be Squatlo’s fault because he keeps talking about his, and my, favorite movie, Slaughterhouse Five. His quoting from the movie made me think about Marie. I’ll be talking with my therapist to see if she can help me find the connection(s) and why those quotes brought Marie to mind.

So, what I’m attempting to say is this. It won’t be Muslim terrorists or atomic bombs that will finally rid the human race from Earth’s crust. We will starve and suffer with high-pitched fevers as super bugs kill-off all larger lifeforms. Then the super bugs will eat each other and there will be no life.

At that time, Mother Earth will start anew. My guess is that when she designs species for her new world order, she’ll make everything hermaphroditic women/females capable of self-procreating. Regrettably, I think it’s the male of the species that fuck things up.

Hell, I bet it was a woman what invented Carta Blanca beer. Manana, y’all.

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6 Responses to “Squatlo Incites Rant; I Miss Marie”

  1. When it all goes down, I just want to have had done everything that I’ve ever wanted to do and I will die a happy chick

  2. Okay, first off, Mooner, I just picked my nose and scratched my ass – and did NOT wash my hands – before I typed this comment. I’m sorry. I just thought you should know, in case cooties jump off of the screen at you – you can have the lysol handy to kill the germies.

    You continue to slay me – coming off like some majorly crass lunatic, but underneath it all…heart ‘o’ gold. That’s a sweet story about you and your mom in law.

    And I’m pretty sure you’re right about your Carta Blanca beer – a chick probably invented (or at the very minimum “perfected”) it.

    Happy Weekending, Moon!!!!

  3. Squato says:

    Reck, I hope you picked your nose and scratched your ass IN THAT ORDER… and not the other way around.

    Mooner, she’s right. You do have a heart in there, I’ve seen it in the way you write. It’s wrapped in bacon and floating in Carta Blanca, but it’s in there.

    My experiences with nurses have always been great. I treat them well because I know they’re the ones who determine whether or not your stay at their facility goes well or sucks like dry heaves on a party barge.

  4. admin says:

    T-cat. Nobody doubts that you will do just that!

  5. admin says:

    Reck. My new book has a great nose-picking story. Too bad I can’t tell it here. I am not a nice man. Stop saying that.

  6. admin says:

    Squat. Reck can pick my ass anytime. What we want to think is that the medical profession is above all others. But, alas, they have been molded into by-the-piece production robots by modern American Health Insurance companies. Like the dog breeders breed the brains our of miniature dogs, health insurance giants have bred the care out of health care.

    FUCK RICK PERRY!!!!!!!!!

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