Gotta love this shit....
"The city of Montreal plans to install GPS devices in some of its vehicles to monitor the whereabouts of its employees." Perhaps, and it is just a thought, they should put the GPS on the people, it may be more accurate. I'm wondering how they would do that. A chip inserted where? A necklace made to look like pearls? Better yet, a watch! Perhaps even better of an idea, have the supervisors actually check on the workers? Oooooh, how bold would that be!
PatchAdamsRN got me a brochure on IBS from the hospital today. As many know, I suffer (as most Jews suffer in some way), from this affliction (a word used by Jews for centuries, mostly when they are overcharged at a cash register somewhere, or secondly have to eat dry matzoh for 14 days in the spring). The brochure Patch enlightened me with shed much light on terminology I have lacked for oh so long in how to describe the AFFLICTION to others who do not have this disease so that they may better understand how it all works.
The highlights of the brochure (obviously written by IBSanonymous) - oh, and there's lots of funny looking stick figures which seem to be in "distress" (I'm assuming such as there are shaky lines all around their stick figure bodies):
1 - IBS is a high maintenance condition. It is inconvenient - such as always having to question waiters about what is in certain menu items, or, checking to be sure there is always a bathroom close to where you are or will be. But those are nothing compared to the inconvenience of triggering an ATTACK because you ate the wrong food, or not being able to get to a bathroom in time ( I did once ruin a carpet in my new condo )
2 - When I'm having an attack, I need space. Please give me my space when I'm in the bathroom. I appreciate your concern, but you can't help me, and your hovering just compounds my embarrassment. (most of us simplify this due to time constraints with a simple FUCK OFF and hope our spouses understand the underlying WORDY meaning)
3 - The rules are always changing, as are the symptoms and things that trigger them. Sometimes, a food item that has always been safe can suddenly turn against you (just as Pharoh did thousands of years ago to our ancesters in Mitzryhim, no doubt) and once thought to be ok, now triggers a vicious attack. ( a vicious attack does not include the use of plain yellow mustard vs dijon )
4 - I'm not using IBS as an excuse NOT to do things - making plans to go out can be really scary when the symptoms and rules can change at anytime. (so true, and I may add that this just goes to prove my point more and more that, for me at least, I always love being invited to the party, I just don't always want to show up)
OK - when I was growing up (sometime around the Crimean war), I found at an early age the many uses of propaganda. This came from vidoes of watching the Jews get destroyed in WWII and, the synagogue where I went, and the ways my parents felt were best to get me to "behave". Sometimes these are called rules, and sometimes it is just plain propaganda - or, shit, take your pick. In the case of IBS, shit is really the center of the debate.
I think the moral of the story is, IBS proves that hell is really life on earth, that the person who invented quilted Charmin is a God, and whomever started distributing moist ass wipes in travel containers should be promoted to Prince/Princess of the world (King/Queen if their parents are dead and they made tampons free to all women and moved Christmas to February).
PatchAdamsRN got me a brochure on IBS from the hospital today. As many know, I suffer (as most Jews suffer in some way), from this affliction (a word used by Jews for centuries, mostly when they are overcharged at a cash register somewhere, or secondly have to eat dry matzoh for 14 days in the spring). The brochure Patch enlightened me with shed much light on terminology I have lacked for oh so long in how to describe the AFFLICTION to others who do not have this disease so that they may better understand how it all works.
The highlights of the brochure (obviously written by IBSanonymous) - oh, and there's lots of funny looking stick figures which seem to be in "distress" (I'm assuming such as there are shaky lines all around their stick figure bodies):
1 - IBS is a high maintenance condition. It is inconvenient - such as always having to question waiters about what is in certain menu items, or, checking to be sure there is always a bathroom close to where you are or will be. But those are nothing compared to the inconvenience of triggering an ATTACK because you ate the wrong food, or not being able to get to a bathroom in time ( I did once ruin a carpet in my new condo )
2 - When I'm having an attack, I need space. Please give me my space when I'm in the bathroom. I appreciate your concern, but you can't help me, and your hovering just compounds my embarrassment. (most of us simplify this due to time constraints with a simple FUCK OFF and hope our spouses understand the underlying WORDY meaning)
3 - The rules are always changing, as are the symptoms and things that trigger them. Sometimes, a food item that has always been safe can suddenly turn against you (just as Pharoh did thousands of years ago to our ancesters in Mitzryhim, no doubt) and once thought to be ok, now triggers a vicious attack. ( a vicious attack does not include the use of plain yellow mustard vs dijon )
4 - I'm not using IBS as an excuse NOT to do things - making plans to go out can be really scary when the symptoms and rules can change at anytime. (so true, and I may add that this just goes to prove my point more and more that, for me at least, I always love being invited to the party, I just don't always want to show up)
OK - when I was growing up (sometime around the Crimean war), I found at an early age the many uses of propaganda. This came from vidoes of watching the Jews get destroyed in WWII and, the synagogue where I went, and the ways my parents felt were best to get me to "behave". Sometimes these are called rules, and sometimes it is just plain propaganda - or, shit, take your pick. In the case of IBS, shit is really the center of the debate.
I think the moral of the story is, IBS proves that hell is really life on earth, that the person who invented quilted Charmin is a God, and whomever started distributing moist ass wipes in travel containers should be promoted to Prince/Princess of the world (King/Queen if their parents are dead and they made tampons free to all women and moved Christmas to February).