Category Archives: Health

Health related topics. Genetics, Drugs (Pharmaceuticals) etc.

The Backwards Journey

Recently my friend Tim Jordan wrote on Facebook about his friend Joe. According to Tim, Joe was an unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic, the type who ends up so deep within the thralls of their mental illness, they forego their medication, they believe everyone is out to get them – except for Tim in Joe’s case. The mini biography that Tim wrote about his friend Joe was both sad and touching, and I wanted to share it with anyone who may cross paths with this post.

Tim’s story goes as so:

Sometimes I would be driving past this one particular park with my friend Joe the Unmedicated Paranoid Schizophrenic and he’d be like, “Hey dude, do you want to go raise the devil?” and point down the road into the park because apparently it was the best spot in town to conjure up the Father of Lies and I would always say, “Nah, man. Let’s just focus on getting this weed and then go back home and smoke it up.”

Then he’d be all, “Okay that’s cool man. One day though, right?”

“Yeah dude. One day for sure, Joe.”

Another time I was with Joe in his apartment, and he was operating, at that time, under the particular delusion that he was a 2000 year old monk. We watched a lot of good Kung fu movies at that time, and he was gathering a lot of cheesy Kung fu magazines that we enjoyed looking through. Yes, magazines were still pretty relevant then. It was sometime in the early aughts, as the cool kids say.

So anyway he ordered this cheap Shaolin monk garb and it arrived while I was there. I watched him put it on with a great deal of excitement. Finally, after 2000 years he was getting back in the groove.

After getting everything on he immediately threw this high kick that was pretty impressive, but also unfortunately absolutely ripped the ass out of his monk pants.

It was hilarious, but I absolutely could not laugh because Joe could be volatile and I really wanted to stay on his good side. Which made it even more hilarious. I had to make an excuse to run over to my apartment real quick so I could laugh in peace.

But then, there was that other time that Joe casually mentioned he started to burn down his building, but only changed his mind when he worried that my apartment was too close, and might catch on fire too.

Then, there was a period of time where Joe was convinced that he could get his magic powers back, if he just straightened his spine; so he built this medieval torture device looking thing that he could hang from while wearing a helmet. Sometimes I would come over, and he’d just be swinging from that thing, and carry on a conversation like it was something everyone did.

Then, he became convinced that if he ate enough rice that it would fill up his esophagus, and straighten his spine. He already had a giant pot of rice made.

So I asked him, “Are you saying you’re going to eat all that rice to the point where your stomach fills up and it backs up into your throat? Like, I could look into your mouth and see the rice poking out back there?”

“Yep,” he said. “Want some?”

“No thanks, Joe”

I watched that pot of rice slowly turn to rot over the next few months. Just like everything else in his apartment.

Before Joe completely succumbed to his mental illness, he had what I thought was the greatest job ever. He was contracted by a third party to manage all the arcades at Carrowinds, our local amusement park.

He got paid all year round, even when the park was closed, but he had to work just about every day in the summer when it was open. He used to sneak me in the park sometimes when he was working.

He was great with kids. If he saw someone having a bad time he would give them free games and prizes. Like those remote control cars and boats are kind of tricky to learn. He’d teach the kids how to drive then better with a few free games.

He was the best.

Sometimes in the winter when the park was closed we’d drive over and into the park. We’d smoke a blunt in the car and he would drive all through the park on the walkways, etc. It was wild.

Then he’d open up some arcades and we’d smoke some more and play free games for hours.

Joe was the best.

Then there was the day Joe told me he had to smoke crack to make the voices in his head go away.

Over time we went through this backwards journey with technology. We started with a PlayStation 3. Then he sold it to his brother.

So then, for a while, we had a Super Nintendo. We played a lot of baseball. He didn’t have many games. I sucked at that baseball game. Then he sold it too.

Eventually we were sitting in his dark apartment because he had no power, playing this handheld baseball game straight out of the 1980s. I was better at that baseball game.

Sometimes Joe would be waiting for me, on the steps outside my door when I came home from work. I was not always happy to see him. By this time most of what he spoke was nonsense, and I had usually had a shitty day renting tuxedos and dealing with a terrible boss. Oddly enough he would act pretty normal around my wife Alice.

I tried to keep most of the crazy from her. Joe was getting thinner and we’d feed him. He didn’t trust food from anyone else anymore.

We fell into this pattern where I spent an hour or so with him, listening to him ramble on about conspiracies. One minute he would be Jesus, the next the devil.

Once he told me that he was trying to get political asylum from China. Turned out he was telling the truth there. He was emailing a lot of craziness to people.

After an hour or so of sitting in the dark in his filthy apartment I would go home, get high, and try to decompress.

My escape was Dark Age of Camelot. I role played in that game. I created my own little world there, and everything else just faded away for a while.

Joe was going to be evicted soon.

I had no idea what to do.

Listen, I’m no saint here.

Joe lived in the same apartment complex. He knew when I was home and I couldn’t avoid him if I wanted to. I didn’t want to make him mad, or think I had betrayed him some how.

He’d already attacked his dad with a crowbar.

All his family lived here too, but they abandoned him when he got sick. His mother used to call ME and I would beg her to go see him. I got mad at her once and told her she was just going to let him die, that this wasn’t going to end well.

I was as scared of him as much as I loved him. We had a spare bedroom and he knew this, but I also knew I couldn’t let him in.

I just couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t put Alice in danger, but I felt like I was failing him.

I think at times Joe was the loneliest man on the face of the Earth.

Then an old friend stepped in. He could take Joe but he lived in Virginia. I helped Joe pack, bought him a new tire for his junker car.

I also tried to warn the friend, but I knew he couldn’t quite grasp what Joe was going through.

Joe’s last night in Charlotte, he slept in our spare bedroom. I kept a bat by the bed and didn’t sleep. Joe was my best friend, but I couldn’t trust him not to snap and do something horrible.

I felt like I was betraying him.

Saying goodbye was horrible but also a huge relief. I felt guilty about that. Still do. If I could have done more for him I would.

But I wasn’t doing so well then either. Watching Joe change and disintegrate right before my eyes had taken a toll on me.

Joe stayed in Virginia for about a month. Things got far worse. One night I’m playing Dark Age Of Camelot and the friend calls. He says:

“Joe killed my cats. My neighbor saw him and called the cops and he’s on the run. The only place I think he would go is straight to you.

Oh, and on a side note, someone from the Secret Service came by and took all of our computers. Joe was writing threatening letters to the president.”

Alice and I stayed at her brother’s house that night. The next morning I have to go to work and before I even open the store I can hear our phone ringing.

It was Joe. He wanted to meet me on my lunch break. I worked in the mall and thought if there’s anywhere I can do this and probably not die it’s going to be here.

I told him of course I’d meet him. And I would buy him lunch.

He was so thin when I saw him but he ate the burger and fries I bought for him. He was twitchy and paranoid and probably on crack or something else.

This was my best friend. My last best friend and he was just a husk of the Joe I knew. He casually told me that he killed the cats because “they were talking” to him. I had to just eat my fries and nod. Thankfully he told me nothing more about it.

He told me that he was going to Charleston and work on a fishing boat. I wished him well, gave him the few dollars I had on me, and hugged him tight. He hugged back, and we just stood there in the food court, hugging each other for a long time.

That was the last time I ever saw Joe. I got a few updates over the next few weeks from my weed man. Joe had hooked up with some mutual friends down there.

Those updates were never good.

I used to dream about Joe a lot after he was gone and in these dreams he was right about all the delusions that he’d held.

He raged across the Earth like a demigod and he KNEW. He knew I had never believed him, that I was just humoring him and wishing that he’d be “normal” again. He was disappointed in me. Angry with me. I had nowhere to hide from him.

Then one night I had a dream where I came upon Joe sitting calmly in a tree. He thanked me for being his friend and disappeared.

I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed of him since. I don’t have any pictures of him. It gets harder and harder to recall his face.

His mother hired a private detective to find him after the messages from the weed guy stopped coming. The detective found a record of a speeding ticket in Charleston. Nothing else

I was at my wit’s end, Joe had vanished and I was desperate enough to go to a psychic who told me he was dead. She told me he was in the Pisgah National Forest.

He had talked about going there a lot. He wanted to live there. Then again he also said he had a mansion there with a gigantic Boulder of crack. Who knows.

I went on the Doe Project, a database for unidentified bodies, and found one in the Pisgah National Forest that did kinda match. I tried to contact his mom but years had passed at this point and I couldn’t find her number.

It’s probably not him but I try to be a realist about these things.

Joe is either in jail (he’s not though, I’ve checked), committed somewhere, or dead.

I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

I still have a cell phone with my same number from back then. If he’s alive he would have found me by now. Or I him.

Joe was the last. I can’t do that again. I have IRL (in real life) friends and they are fabulous but I can’t take any more in. That was enough for me.

Mostly I live on the internet anyway.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. I did not mean to do this tonight but it’s been a decade and I still mourn Joe.

I started mourning him before he even left. The Joe I knew died a long time ago.

Tim’s story put a lump in my throat, and accentuated the way his friend Joe affected his life with untreated mental illness, going from being relatively benign, to dominating the entirety of his personality and actions . I sincerely hope Tim gets closure on his friend one of these days.

In the near future I would love to write more of these stories, about people who have influenced peoples lives, both good and bad. Check back soon to see what I can come up with.

10 Days on Diclofensine, A Brief Rundown

Quite a while back I purchashed a 1 gram sample of Diclofensine (not to be confused with Diclofenac, which is an entirely different drug all together) – an SNDRI (triple reuptake inhibitor) stimulant/antidepressant. I wrote a 10 day report on my use of the drug, and entirely forgot about it, until I stumbled across it. I decided that it’s probably worth publishing since there is very little information about the drug on the internet. I documented my use and stored it in a notepad as I was intending on cleaning it up and publishing it, but never got around to it. So today, I have polished it up, and will post it here.

Diclofensine – Report of Use

Day 1- 25mg followed by…nothing. Increased dose to 50mg about an hour later and to 75 an hour after that. Felt nothing. Had trouble sleeping, even after Doxylamine + Promethazine.

Day 2- 30mg. Still not feeling anything. Will continue like this for about a week and see if I can obtain any amphetamine, seeing as the drug is a SNDRI.

Day 3 – 44mg. Still not feeling anything. Feeling a massive down tho, probably due to the SSRI and SNRI effects of the drug. Hoping constant application of the drug will cause improvement in mood.

[I do not remember drinking alcohol that night, but the hangover would most likely be from that. I probably did not document that due to the fact that I was incapable of comprehensibly updating the page.]

Day 4 – 40mg with 5mg heavily cut phenazepam. Doubt the phenazepam made a difference. Had a hangover all day. havent noticed the diclofensine yet.

Day 5 – Still nothing noticeable. Took 45mg.

Day 6 – 45mg again. Feeling normal SSRI effects of the drug. Thoughts,  and emotions are becoming numb. Ignoring people because my feelings for them are muted. Isolating myself from other people.

Day 7 – 45mg  – I find smoking a cigar, taking pregabalin or other drugs makes me slightly more social but this drug makes me want to withdraw. Forcing social effects is difficult unless other drugs are involved. Probably have about 7 days of the drug left. Not ordering more. Going to wean myself off with duloxetine, and then stop taking antidepressants entirely. Abuse potential for this drug has yet to be seen.

Day 8 – 55mg – feeling fairly depressed today and im not sure why. Didnt take the drug for about 36 hours after the previous dose though, which may explain it. Althought it seems to be going away, I still feel remnants of depression.

Day 9 – slept all day and most of the night. Felt depressed until dosing with the drug. Feeling a slight dependence to it, but I’m also realising my concentration levels have increased dramatically.

Day 10 – final dose. Nothing spectacular happened after taking almost 100 mg of it. The drug is residual for several days afterwards.  Causes my norepinepherine to massively spike without an NRI present. Finished drug, started duloxetine.

In conclusion, this drug is useful if you’re in need of a good antidepressant that can also help with low dopamine levels. However, it is not particularly useful in its job. Possibly a larger sample with a longer time frame could have given me more data to work with. Unfortunately obtaining this drug is reasonably expensive, and thus getting several grams of it to fully test it would be costly and probably not worth it. It is unfortunate that the testing and use of the drug was not completed by the medical scientists responsible for the creation of the drug, as it would be interesting to see a detailed report on the effects of such a drug.

And there we have it, my report on the drug. Unfortunately I can not remember more of my experience as it was taken about 7 months before this article. I can’t say I recommend taking this drug, but I also think that it really could be useful if taken for the right reasons. Note that this is a research chemical and may cause all sorts of body problems, as it has not been fully lab tested. Buy and use this drug at your own risk. That is all.


The AVM experience – What it’s like to have a stroke at 22

This has been swirling around in my head for about the past week. I kind of quickly shoved it back as soon as I was alert enough to realize what happened to me back in January, but now I feel like I should speak out about every little detail.

Sunday January 17, 2010  around 9:30 p.m. I had just finished getting ready to go out with my friends to our regular Sunday karaoke bar. I left my apartment feeling normal, I rode in my friend’s car to the bar feeling normal, I walked into the bar, and I started to drink like normal. I had put my usual song in to sing (Portishead-Sour Times) and found my way back to where my friends were hanging out.

We sat around our table, bullshitting like we always do, and having a good time. Soon I was called up to sing, but just shortly before that happened I started feeling a pressure in the top left of my head which traveled down to the end of the bridge of my nose. I had felt this same thing about two years before while out grocery shopping once, but it was a very very light sensation that went away on its own so I continued on with life.

As I continued singing the pressure started to turn into a pain. I tried to ignore it thinking it would pass, but the more I kept going the more pain came. I got to the point where I was less able to focus on the words on the screen, or even remember what I was singing anymore. Somehow I made it through my song, and sat back down at the table in a quiet state of shock because I had no idea what was happening to me. I have a problem with anxiety disorders, and I did not want to provoke myself into a panic attack even though it was getting past the point where I felt in control of what was happening within my head. I did not want to freak out the rest of the bar which is a small place where most of the crowd knows each other, and the last thing I needed was people smothering me asking what was wrong.

I casually texted a friend and asked him if he was coming out to the bar, but I quickly noticed that for some reason when I looked down at the screen of my phone I couldn’t see my thumb or my index finger there touching the buttons. I thought that I was maybe causing this by panicking (I had about given up at this point on trying to control it), so I tried to make sure breathe, but nothing was helping. Shortly after, I started seeing a small triangle shaped pattern that had mini orange triangles inside of it, and was sort of “flashing” in the bottom right corner of my right eye.

I let the friend sitting next to me know what I was seeing, and that I didn’t feel right. She had dealt with my anxiety before , and has a general idea of what to do when I am freaking the hell out. We both went outside, and at that point I couldn’t even keep my breathing straight anymore. I was hyperventilating, and trying to force myself to cry because for some odd reason sometimes crying helps me get over my attacks.

I was too nervous about what my body was possibly doing to itself that I couldn’t even force myself to cry as much as I wanted to and tried to. My friend asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. I told her no, and that I just wanted to go home to shake this off. It kept getting worse. All of it. The anxiety, the way my head felt, and the flashing shape in my eye were just feeding to the anxiety problem. I have rarely ever had it reach the level where it’s beyond controllable, and it did get to that point that night. Thankfully , my friend decided it was time to go to the hospital anyway after discussing that my mother had and still has problems with migraines, but I never had before in my life.

Everyone (by everyone I mean a guy friend who drove us to the bar, his girlfriend who is also my friend, and another girlfriend of ours) quickly packed into the car, and it was off to the hospital with me. I tried calling my mom to let her know what was going on , but she didn’t pick up her phone. Later in the night she noticed it was my number that popped up on her screen, so she texted me saying she thought it was one of her friends calling to bug her, and asked what was up.

At that point I was already at Clarkson Medical Center’s 24 hour urgent care building out west. I remember walking up to the counter, handing the man behind the desk my insurance cards, and trying to fill out the paperwork. I was so disoriented at that time that I could barely even state my name to the guy, when I was born, or my social security number. I had to think really hard to complete such a simple task such as writing in the information needed on the emergency room papers. It got to the point where I just passed the paper over to my friend and asked her to fill the rest out for me.

I was quickly called back to see the nurse who asked me to describe my symptoms to her. I was still in full on panic mode, feeling like I was barely able to function. I was doing my usual nervous habit of shaking my legs, but I was doing it so bad that she had to remind me to settle down so that I could continue to tell her what was wrong. As I told her what was going on with my eye, and the headache I felt, I noticed the right eye went slowly back to normal, but in my left eye I was seeing a blurred transparent circle. Almost like a cap covering my pupil. I remember telling the nurse this , and about jumping out of the chair because I was that terrified. I had no idea what was going on or what to do and felt like I was losing all control.  Right after I jumped out of the chair, it suddenly felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in both of my ears, and I could barely hear the nurse asking me any of her other questions.

I was sent back to the little check up room, and waited for a doctor to come in to take a look at me. Keep in mind hospitals have always made me nervous, and I hate setting foot into them even if I’m not there to see a doctor. Being in that room experiencing what I was (at this point the orange triangles had come back) was only bringing my anxiety levels right back up after I had just calmed down a tad bit. I panicked so bad from just waiting in that room for what felt like an eternity, that I decided in a dazed and almost unconscious state it was a good idea to get up and leave that hospital room by myself to get my friend for comfort.

I got out of the room, and started to make my way down the hallway. But something was wrong. My legs weren’t moving properly with my body at all. I was literally dragging dead weights underneath me that I had absolutely no feeling in. The tops of my feet were dragging on the ground too as I tried to focus on my walking and how to take steps…bring one foot up, bring the other foot up. Left foot , right foot, left foot , right foot. It was almost like dragging a puppet through a hallway, but not pulling it’s feet off the ground to make it walk correctly. I somehow miraculously made it to back up to the waiting room door, but the receptionist caught sight of me  and asked, “Whoa! Where are you going?”

I explained to him that I really needed someone back in that room with me for comfort, he kindly asked me which person I wanted, and all I remember telling him was “the girl with the dark hair.” He went and got her after getting me back to my room, and somehow she managed to calm me down entirely. I was starting to get drowsy, and just sat with my back up on the bed ’til I felt like I wanted to lay down.

We chatted for a bit and tried to take my focus off of what was going on, but soon my stomach became uneasy.Thankfully, I can always tell when I’m going to vomit because my throat sends me nice little warning signs. My friend managed to get a nurse in quick, and I violently threw up into the tub a nurse was holding in front of me. When I say violently I mean it too. I had to have my entire face wiped off, and I almost couldn’t breathe through my nose because the force I had was just pushing the puke back up into my face.

I was given medicine for nasuea, and had been ordered a CT scan because if this had been a migraine it would’ve been my first. About five minutes after the vomit scene, a man came with a wheelchair to take me back to the CT machine. I felt like I was falling in and out of it, and to this day I’m not sure if it was because of my condition, the anti-nasuea medicine, or possibly both. I laid there on the bed in absolute silence, and I remember the scan not lasting more than five minutes before the guy silently helped me back onto the wheelchair.

On the way back to my room I began to feel worried again because I noticed how fast the guy was wheeling me through the halls. Neither of us said a single word, which of course led me to believe something was wrong. I can remember thinking to myself repeatedly to “please let everything be okay”.  Shortly after I was dropped back off to the room, a woman came to the door and in her calmest most upbeat voice informed me, “We’re going to take you down to the medical center (UNMC) because your CT scan shows some bleeding in your brain, and they can figure out exactly what it is going on when you get down there. okay?”

My heart sank and my mind tried it’s hardest to race in my delirious state. I had seriously thought I’d be going home that night with some migraine medication in hand, and that everything would be fine again. Instead I was being wheeled down the hallway yet again, but this time it was to the exit doors to be loaded into an ambulance. I was starting to feel out of it and drowsy, and I was thankful that they allowed my friend to ride in the front seat while the other paramedic sat in back with me. Hearing a familiar voice made me feel comfortable enough to calm down, because at that moment and time I was facing on of my biggest fears ever(having to ride in the back of an ambulance strapped to the stretcher). I closed my eyes, and off we went to the University of Nebraska Medical Center. The longest car ride of my entire life even though in reality it’s only about twenty minutes.

We finally arrived at the hospital, and I remembered feeling the cold winter wind for about two minutes before I was inside staring up at the flourescent hospital lights. I kept wishing I was going to be okay. Before I knew it I was finally in the ICU on the 8th floor (neurology cases).

I barely remember being stripped of my clothes and quickly thrown into a hospital gown. I do remember hoping that it would all be over tomorrow, and that I would be back in my comfortable apartment with my familiar surroundings. I do remember four of my friends (the driver of the car we came in followed the ambulance to the hospital) standing at my left corner by the door as several different nurses hooked me up to IV’s and checked my vital signs. The very last thing I remember before falling asleep that night was my girl friend asking her boyfriend if he needed to leave the room (hospital rooms make him queasy), watching him say yes and walk out, listening to her state to the nurses that he’s a medical courier which made it ironic that he couldn’t stand hospital rooms. I remember hearing laughter about his situation, and  listening to another friend tell me to be strong before they all left the room for the night.

My friends informed my mother later that night that I was in the hospital because I never was able to respond to her text after all that had just happened within the past two hours. They also informed a few of our good friends from the bar who had noticed my sudden disappearance  and were texting my phone asking where I went, letting them know my situation and what was going on.

My mom and my brother arranged for a flight from California as soon as possible, and arrived on that Tuesday (the 19th). It was on that day that I had an angiogram, and that day that they discovered that I had an Arteriovenous Malformation (AVM) in the left occipital lobe of my brain. Something I was born with, but it (my brain)finally couldn’t take it anymore for some reason, and bled about the size of a half dollar causing a hemorrhagic stroke.  I am not paralyzed or anything surprisingly, but I am an extremely lucky case.

Coming soon: It’s not like it’s brain surgery! Wait…yes, it literally is.

Auditory Hallucinations: The Rundown (Part 1)

Quite often when I find myself taking an excessive amount of drugs, of any kinda, usually opiate based as I come down, I seem to experience some quite random auditory hallucinations. Nothing malicious, just random crap. Oddly enough, I usually hear these hallucinations in a female voice rather than a male, or my own voice. Sometimes the voice is high pitched like a young girl, and sometimes its deeper and more sincere like a middle aged woman. Its quite strange. But I still hear the very odd male voice every now and then.

So in this blog post i will list 20 of the sentences I have heard while hallucinating. Some are funny, some are bizarre and some are just plain fucking stupid. But its always fun to listen to them and write down what they are, so here it goes:

2. “Terry can I buy you a drink?”
3. “Louise, Whats the number in a prime set?”
4. “I heard vegemite paste hit the window”
5. “Were the politics centre in the middle of the universe?”
6. “Smells like chicken *giggle*”
7. “Well then get rid of the eye, I hate it”
8. “Haircuts use Wonka cheese”
9. “I’m just terrified of old grey ladies”
10. “Wall decks, did you apply the wall decks? You’re quite silly”
11. “I couldn’t take your mum flowers, I just couldn’t. They’re made by Gypsies”
12. “What do you think? Sugar cube or sweetner?”
13. “*blabber*..and a few things come down to his surgical operation”
14. “You’re up early. Its 9pm and you’re up early. I’m drinking this wine”
15. “Just do it, go, take the high jump”
16. “Caffeine and coffee are the same thing bro, fentanyl is different by far”
17. “The shirt needs more colour in it, the shirt, needs more colour in it, it needs to be stabilised by a molecule”
18. “Princess Margaret might be driving a Rav 4 if she was still alive”
19. “The bed spreads on, I hope the pole doesnt collapse and crush the crinkle”
20. “If I set a date with a camera man….huh…uh….Spaghetti bolognaise”

And thats todays 20, stay tuned for another time in the next couple of days/weeks when I’m hallucinating again and decide to blog post about it.
Off into the wild blue yonder of drug fueled mental madness I go.

Bob’s Educational Corner: Science

On tonight’s episode of Bob’s Educational Corner, we are proud to present “Science”.

Science. It’s all around us. If you turn on a TV, or eat an ice cream cone, or bludgeon a homeless man to death with an oscilloscope, you are enjoying the benefits of science. It enriches our lives and plagues our dreams, and is one of the most important parts of a balanced breakfast. But science can’t happen by itself, unless it’s also a wizard, but that is stupid and so are you for thinking it. Science requires The Scientific Method, so let us first examine The Scientific Method.

The Scientific Method was invented in 1776 by Al Gore (Al Gore is best known for his invention of The Scientific Method, and for being mentioned in this article). He discovered that, if you heat a test tube in a Bunsen burner while wearing a white lab coat, the very fabric of the universe itself will bend to your whim. With The Scientific Method, he was able to create America, simply by willing it into existence. Then he banged a hot Asian lab assistant and took a nap. This laid the foundation of all modern science.

Try an experiment. Close your eyes and fall off a cliff. Did you notice that you hit the ground? If not, you should seek medical attention. But if you did, you just experienced science! And should seek medical attention. But why did you fall? You fell because your body was attracted to science particles in the ground. These particles are named Fred and Suzanne, so pick the one that makes you feel better about yourself. Every object, no matter how large or small, is filled with science. Sometimes this takes the form of particles, like in the ground. But science is not limited to particles!

Science comes in many forms. This sentence, which is being beamed directly into your eyeballs through your computer, is filled with delicious sciencey jelly. Your clothes, if you’re wearing any, you perv, are composed of long strands of science, woven together by skilled scienticians, who love working with science to make your day better. They love it so much, in fact, that they often work all day for free, not even stopping to eat or sleep. Their dedication is inspiring, and is itself composed of sticky nodules of science.

Every year, Scienticians, which are people who study science and are very good in bed*, discover new types of science. They use sophisticated instruments, such as the monocle, to probe every aspect of existence in their search for science. No location is too remote to investigate in their quest. Recently, for example, science was discovered in the deepest jungles of South America. Braving harsh weather and enraged hippies, Scienticians bulldozed these jungles and salted the earth, causing the science to rise to the top. Through careful study, it was determined that this science caused laboratory animal’s skin to turn golden brown, then explode. Tanning lotion containing this science is already available in most major stores.

We have only scratched the surface of science, but I hope your sense of wonder has been kindled. If you would like to learn more about science, you can write your local congressman and ask for an informational packet. You can also use LSD, which is so full of science that you’ll think your head is going to explode because there are, like, so many monkeys in your brain. And to answer your question, yes- the monkeys are also made of science. Good night, and good learning!

*This statement paid for by the American Society of Scienticians.

Woodland Creatures Out for Revenge

You thought you were safe, didn’t you?  With your lidded trash can and your double-pane windows and that big front door of yours.  Indoors stays in, outdoors stays out.  Or does it?

There’s been a spate of animals taking the next step.  They’re tired of being on the outside looking in.  We’re just upright, hairless apes.  We can’t even hold our own against an angry dog half the time if we’re bare-handed.  Each year plenty of humans are killed or maimed by pets.  Okay it may have been unfair to use Trevor the face-eating chimpanzee as an example.  But you can find plenty of reports of people who have discovered that a dog was not their best friend.

These gentle woodland animals, long venerated in such movies as <insert Disney film here>, are catching on.  “Why, if they can be defeated by an animal they willingly keep in their homes, surely I too can get some of this civilization action.”  They’re not kidding.  Lots of them are throwing off the shackles of living outside and eating from the ground and checking into the Hotel Fancypants.

Nowadays animals are tired of having to walk everywhere when humans can ride.  We might try to tell them that having four legs is plenty enough appendages to go where they need to go without a lot of fuss but I don’t think they believe us.  Witness these adorable (and probably delicious) little goats, trying to get on the bus without paying any fare.  Aren’t they adorable?  Lazy-asses.

Know what’s less cute than a goat on the bus but infinitely scarier?  A bear.  Eating your ice cream.  Let’s have a look at some of the shenanigans bears have been up to in people’s homes:

“They went into my sister’s room and pooped on her bed. But they didn’t touch her Hannah Montana poster.”
—Danielle Hyde, 7 (Did you have a good laugh, Danielle?)

“I was in Indonesia when I got a call: A bear had gotten inside my house and set off the alarm. He battered down two doors; after that he was a perfect gentlemen. All he took was a tub of java chip Starbucks ice cream and a five-gallon tin of popcorn.”
—Tower Snow Jr., 59, homeowner (If you’d had Ben & Jerry’s he’d have come back)

What do the experts say?  “People need to understand they’re not coming to kill us, they’re coming to eat our Hershey’s chocolate.”  They’re tired of our shit.  They have to live outside and hunt for food while the most hunting we do is trying to find what cabinet we hid the cookies in.  They’re onto us and I don’t think they’re about to give up convenience foods now.

Bears and goats aren’t the only ones involved in the animal invasion cabal.  Deer like snacks too, but even better than that they’re acutely aware of where to receive medical help.  In case you’re looking for a deer date, you’ll find some deer like to look pretty and others are into tackle football.  Some of the more sensitive deer may attempt to redecorate your bathroom.

Look at that last link.  I mean look at the sheer amount of “related content” which has “deer” or deer-related terms in it.  Remember when deer were shy and they ran away, flashing their white tails at you when you startled them?  No more, man.  No more.  Now they’re all up in your grill, shopping at your stores and taking themselves to the vet.

If I were you I’d beware.  I’d be real careful and cast a jaundiced eye at that 12-point barista if I were you, because honestly at this rate you’re just going to think you’re hallucinating when he starts talking to you.  And while you’re standing there wondering about it he’s gonna drink your coffee.

Bob’s Educational Corner: Intro and Cabbages

Greetings and salutations, fair citizens, and welcome to the first installment of Bob’s Educational Corner! I’ll be giving you important and informative insight into whatever seems prudent, so put on your learning hats and let the adventure of learning begin!

Have you ever eaten a cabbage? Delicious, isn’t it? With its crunchy exterior and chewy candy center, cabbages are at the heart of America’s war on not-deliciousness. But did you know cabbages are filled with essential oils, and provide enough vitamin A to kill a full grown elephant? Today, we’re going to take a look at the humble cabbage, and find out why it’s America’s favorite breakfast cereal!

In the year 1492, Christopher Columbus and his best friend, Jesus Christ, discovered America. They were captivated by its vast plains, beautiful mountains, and promiscuous college students. But what they loved most were it’s native plants, especially a small green bush that smelled faintly of elderberries. They found that, when boiled or steamed, it gave them the energy to carve Mount Rushmore. Further, when pickled, it was an effective cure for hangovers and scurvy. The two decided to name the plant “cabbage”, an  ancient Egyptian word for “kind of looks like lettuce, but isn’t”, and a new era of culinary excellence began.

Cabbage was an instant success. In the first week of release in Europe, it sold over 1.2 million copies, becoming the first North American fruit ever to go platinum. It was highly sought by the nobility, who craved its decadent texture and rich baritone singing voice, and by the peasantry, who loved how you could boil it for a while and then not starve to death that week. Cabbage was so successful, in fact, that famed artist Leonardo DiCaprio featured it in his masterpiece “The Sistine Chapel”. It was a golden time for the cabbage, and for Europe.

By 1602, however, the cabbage furor had died down. While still popular as a cure for shingles, and for its uncanny resemblance to Rob Reiner, most people thought of cabbage as a kid’s food, or something only eaten on holidays. There was even a town, just outside Sicily, where no one had never even heard of cabbage. Of course, the entire populous had been killed by barbarians several decades earlier, but the fact was undeniable: cabbage just wasn’t as popular as it used to be.

It was almost 200 years before cabbage returned to the public eye.  In 1927,  the Wright brothers, Orville and Ellivro,  were attempting to invent the world’s first humorous answering machine message. They took a cabbage, hooked it up to their old Dodge Dart, and questioned it about foreign affairs. Much to their surprise, the cabbage was not only well versed in politics, but disintegrated Ellivro with its heat vision! Orville asked his other brother, Wilbur, to replace him, then replaced the car with a weasel he’d been saving for a special occasion. Sure enough, both brothers gained the power of flight, and the cabbage skyrocketed back into the spotlight. Demand was immense, and soon the Wrights sold the distribution rights to 20th Century Fox, who created several successful spin offs, including coleslaw, those little things on the end of shoe laces, and Jimmy Buffet.

Today, cabbage is used in everything from xylophones to brussels sprouts. Odds are good that, in the past hour, you’ve used products containing over 17,000 cabbages- more, if you own a television. So the next time you’re eating a big bowl of poached cabbage, take a moment to reflect about how much you owe to it. If I were you, I’d give it a little salute- thank you, cabbage, for all that you do- and thank you, America, for giving us the cabbage, and the freedom to eat it!

Death and the universe.

Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking about death, and dying, and how the universe actually functions. Of course no one knows this, and some people turn to religion to satisfy their fear of dying, that there is an afterlife in heaven, and there they can live on after death and even be reincarnated.

Of course as an Atheist I can not prescribe to this doctrine, and I must have logical explainations for things, however there is no logic in the operation of the universe in the slightest.

Ever tried to think of what is there, if the universe doesnt exist, or didn’t exist before? Ever tried to imagine the expanse of the universe, the distances from us, sitting here uselessly floating around our little star while a googol (1 followed by 100 zeroes – its actually a number – seriously) other stars and planets do the exact same thing, almost an infinite distance away from us, and yet we have no fucking idea what the hell is out there, why its out there or why we even exist.

Why do we exist? what would the point of the universe be if there was no life? It would be a totally dead vacuum of rocks and debris, of atoms and molecules just floating without purpose. Everything that exists beyond life serves no purpose at all, it just lives as much as a non-living thing can and dies as it is consumed by another non-living thing. In a way the universe is alive, but it is not conscious. We are conscious. Yet our existance is puzzling, why are we here? What is our purpose? Who put us here, or what? and how did we become what we are?

I believe in evolution, and I believe that life was created as an accidental combination of all the right molecules in the right place at the right time, but why? If it happened here, it has happened on the other googol planets too. So there is also intelligent life, probably more so than us out there. Its just a matter of time. They would be wondering the same thing. What is the universe for? and why are they there? they will not be able to explain it for the universe can not be explained. No one lives forever, and eventually everything will cease to exist once again.

But that makes room for the the argument that the universe is infinite; that this universe has happened an infinite amount of times, and that the atoms we are created from, when we die, go on to do other glorious things, but in an infinite amount of time the quarks and electrons and neutrons will all reconnect to create us in our perfect form again, the universe crunching and banging over and over an infinite amount of times, on a loop, until we are created again, over and over and over, infinitely….

…Or is this a universe like groundhog day? when the universe crunches again, does it turn into the same original substance that the big bang was created from? in which case the explosion from the matter being ejected into space would be exactly the same as the first time it happened, and will continuously happen exactly the same, and we are born and die over and over – again infinitely.

Infinite. A number that does not technically exist. But in the universes terms, it must. Trying to think of this is enough to make my head spin, and I can not possibly comprehend it at all. Perhaps the universe is just a one-off. Perhaps after death, we are dead. Perhaps when the sun dies, it is lost forever, perhaps when the atoms fall apart, into their pieces of quark, neutron, electron, other shit (I’m no physicist) they remain floating in the endless vacuum forever. Endlessly. The universe dead. No hope for a reincarnation.

But this is boring is it not? To have the universe end in such a way. This is not a popular doctrine for a reason as it is majorly depressing to think that all of this is a waste of time, and that nothing will come of doing anything – but that is exactly how it works as an infinite universe aswell, but atleast we will live again.

When I used to think about death, I used to think I did not care what happened with my dead body. It was just a shell and I was certainly not using it anymore, but now I think I would like my body to be buried, and a tree grown on top, so that I, and my atoms (which are not mine. they were someone or something elses before yours and mine) can fulfil the needs of another life form, and for that life form to be a fruit bearing tree, my atoms would be further fulfilling the needs of another creature, in turn fulfilling the life of more. The great circle of life.

Which is another thing – The human body is made up of so many thousand different cells all with a different purpose. If you look at the bluebottle jellyfish it is made up of 4 different organisms in a symbiotic relationship. they each help maintain the others and thus sustain their life. However doesn’t the human body work the same way? Were we originally symbiotic organisms, made up of a thousand different parts, that over time merged into one gigantic system. The skin protects us but requires nutrients, which the blood provides, which needs oxygen which the lungs provide. The heart requires the electrical impulse from the brain, and the blood. The cellular structures of everything in the body still hold their original link in the DNA strand, the symbiote has become entrenched in our DNA. In total, we are not one organism. We are several million or more all in a symbiotic relationship. We do not control our organs, they are voluntary for a reason. the brain is entwined with them so they survive, pain, hunger, heat, cold, all to keep our symbiotes from dying. This relationship is great, but when one of the DNA pieces is broken, then comes genetic disease, which is a total failure of one symbiotic organism to maintain the rest of the organisms. The human body is wonderous, but again is another thing we will never understand 100%…though it should not stop us trying.

Anyway, this is a majorly long, ranting philosophical post, I had to get it out on text and into the world as it was taking up valuable thinking space. I feel a weight has been lifted from atop my thoughts. They’re now freer flowing and all is well. This post is also possibly the result of gabapentin, tramadol, codeine, and caffeine, interacting as a chain of chemical reactions in the large chemical reaction chamber of my brain.

Dan out – massive rant out in the public for all to see – my crazy thoughts published on the internet. Perhaps some people will find this too long and not read it. Perhaps some will take it to heart and really think about it. who knows. who cares? I’m just gonna write this again an infinite amount of times. 🙂 Enjoy