[from the internet]

A’s for arthritis;
B’s the bad back,
C is the chest pains, perhaps cardiac?

D is for dental decay and decline,
E is for eyesight–can’t read that top line!
F is for fissures and water retention
G is for gas, which I’d rather not mention.

H is high blood pressure–I’d prefer low;
I for incisions with scars you can show.
J is for joints, out of socket, won’t mend,
K is for knees that crack when they bend.

L is lost hearing–now what did you say?
M is memory lapses occurring all day.
N is neuralgia, in nerves way down low;
O is for osteo, the bones that don’t grow!

P for prescriptions, I have quite a few;
Just give me a pill and I’ll be good as new!
Q is for queasy. Is it fatal or flu?
R is for reflux–one meal turns to two.
S for sleepless nights, counting my fears,
T for tinnitus; there are bells in my ears!

U is for urinary; big troubles with flow;
V is for vertigo–that’s “dizzy,” you know.
W is for worry. NOW what’s going ’round?
X is for x-ray and what might be found.

Y is another year I’m left here behind,
Z is for zest that I still have–in my mind.

I’ve survived all the symptoms, my body’s deployed,
and I’ve kept twenty-six doctors fully employed.

Continuing the tradition of the PostCard of the Week, courtesy of PostSecret:

Proceed at your own risk »

Hair spray and perms, men in elastic pants, long-drawn-out-never-ending guitar solos, and girls that turn into snakes.

What more can you ask for in a putrid video?

How about Milton Berle, in drag, feeling up his fake boobs?

The video glory that was Ratt.

Thank God Nirvana came along and killed the hair bands.

Ladies and Gentlemen: after the jump, Round and Round.

Proceed at your own risk »

From “Ask Annie,” a weekly advice columnist on surviving the business world.  Published by Fortune Magazine.

Dear Annie: I’m a summer intern at a law firm that throws a lot of parties (at least two per week so far), which is nice, but I am shy and find it hard to talk to people I don’t know - especially when they are senior to me, which everyone here is. Do you have any advice for breaking the ice? -Quiet One

—–

Dear Quiet One: The best tip I ever heard for losing the office-party heebie-jeebies comes from Nicole Beland, deputy editor of Women’s Health magazine, who admits to being shy too. “An easy way to feel and look confident is to stop wondering if the other person likes you and start figuring out if you like them,” she says. “The simple shift of focus helps turn insecurity into curiosity, and suddenly there are a million questions you want to ask. It works like magic.” Try it! 

Funny how life changes for the better with these little mind tricks.  :-)

First off and most importantly: Congrats to all the daughters on their new jobs!

Today (or this morning, anyway) is a rest day.  There’s 26 more miles in the journal and they haven’t been fun.  In addition to afternoon temps in the high 90s, we’re getting high winds, so it’s like riding straight into a full-bodied hair dryer. The good news is we could see mid-80s this weekend.

From this week’s News of the Weird:

In June, federal judge Fernando Gaitan Jr. ordered Missouri to suspend executions until substantial changes are made in its procedures, including specifying exactly which lethal drugs are to be used and in what quantity.  Gaitan also pointed out that the doctor overseeing the state’s executions is dyslexic and may inadvertently be transposing the dosage numbers. [CNN-AP, 6-26-06]

And here’s a good weight loss joke from the internet:

A fellow was reading the paper one day lamenting the fact that his doctor has ordered him to lose 75 pounds. Next thing he sees is an advertisement for a guaranteed weight loss program. He’s skeptical, but says to himself, “Let’s see what they can do.” He calls them on the phone and subscribes to the 3 day, 10 LB weight loss program.

The next day there comes a knock at his door, and when he answers, there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic 19 year old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nikes and a sign hanging around her neck. She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, “If you can catch me, you can have me.” Without a second thought he takes off after her. A few miles later, huffing and puffing, he finally catches her and has his way with her. After they are through he kisses the girl one last time and thinks to himself with a nod, “I like the way this company does business.” For the next two days, the same girl shows up and the same thing happens each time. On the fourth day, he weighs himself and, sure enough, he lost 10 pounds.

Proceed at your own risk »

They’re mean, green and not hand-drawn anymore.

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are back.

And the trailer is cool.

Better than the Transformers trailer.

The family got our sample ballots from the CC registrar of voters and there on page four, right next to the staple, is Liz in glorious upper-case letters.

I’m so dang proud of her. It takes true guts and cajones to put yourself out there in any political race, no matter the possible outcome or perceived importance of the office.

If you don’t believe me, there are tens of thousands of people eligible to run for this office in Carson City, southern Reno, and Douglas/Storey/Lyon counties. Only four stepped up.

And my soulmate is one of them. She rocks.

Read it last night.  It’s worth your time, especially if you’re a dog lover.  Not mentioned in some of the reviews: you’ll love it if you’re a people person, too.  The humans he lives with* are saints and have their heads on straight.  You’d want them as your own family.

* = Marley owns them, not the other way.  It’s a system that works for all of them.

Went to the Bay Area with dear Aunt Lily and spent last night in Berkeley.  If you heard California is broiling, believe it.  High heat with humidity is nasty, nasty stuff.  The drive was fine and event-free, except for a couple of slow spots.  Aside from that, got to spend quality time with Aunt Lily and Uncle Zinger.  Good time with good company.

Definition of trust:  A man and a woman riding a high performance motorcycle.  He’s leaning over the handles, weaving through traffic.  She’s reading a paperback novel propped up on his back.

Rode to work this morning and gotta say this about the city fathers: they’re paying more than lip service to the idea of bike lanes.  I was a tad disgruntled that the Roop Street changes by the graveyard did not include lane space, but Roop Street over the hill by Mall-Wart does have painted lanes. There’s a new bike path on the west side of the new freeway extension that starts at Mall-Wart and ends near the site of the new Boys and Girls Club.  It’s a nice ride and I’ll try to take the camera out there soon.

Your friendly neighborhood United States Marine Corps is at work again.  Check out the paint job on the Super Stallion after the jump.

Proceed at your own risk »