vicodincrutch: (going on youtube)
video;

[Blip! On goes the network device. Have an unflattering up angle at the bristly chin of House.]

Let's be real. It's on your calender. And for at least eleven months out of the year you don't think about how warm and fuzzy you are, how far you'll travel or even the prayer you're going to say. People say Thanksgiving and you think about [the network device is now hovering before a plate that's pretty much a small buffet] this.

[Closer! Over the mountain of mashed potatoes and it's lava flow of gravy. He even turns the plate on the counter top. There are voices coming from another room indistinct, so yeah he is taking time to pull away and do this.]

Do you see this? Four days. Four days of this. No regrets.

[Behold the glory of green bean casserole. Beside it of course stuffing. Turkey slices, light and dark. Oops. Too close the screen fogs over. House flips it back around to rub it off on his t-shirt.]

People pay extra for a channel of this. Hours and hours. You get this for free. You're welcome.

[One last look then back to that wrinkled face.]

As I was saying... Thanksgiving should be renamed. That's not how people spend it. It's not how they remember it. Just a day for thankfulness? [Scrunched up thoughtful face as if he's listening for a response. Wait. Is that a veiled positive sentiment? The moment has passed!] Whatever. Day of gluttony. I'm not sorry.
vicodincrutch: (smug/i'm right/ lookingood)
I don't think I've laughed this hard at society this much before in a long time. Great job, everybody. Wilson. Cameron. Everybody take a bow. You deserve it.

Expected ration of asshole aside, let me pose a philosophical question to those who like to verbally wrestle anyway. Do you know anymore now than you did back then?
vicodincrutch: (sigh/don't know=don't care)
This isn't picture day, it's dirty laundry day. Good to know I'm not the only one with stinky socks. I'm no Paris Hilton or whoever else is the Enquirer flavor of the week so I don't know who'd want to cherish moments like these forever on film. But, here we are. From that left angle I look like an emaciated Harrison Ford. Maybe not. A picture's worth a blah blah blah. I don't need to finish it, you know. I can think of several words just on the tip of my tongue, most of them have four letters.

Speaking of distractions, a man goes to the doctor's office. He's wrapped in cellophane and says, "Doc, I got a problem." The doctor looks at him and says, "first off I can clearly see your nuts."

vicodincrutch: (seated/i gots a cane)
Did anyone celebrate VD with VDs? I encourage you to talk to this guy. He'll get down and dirty with your problems. After all, he can't be on the couch all day.

I almost wish I didn't sell all of Emmett's things. This rooming situation wouldn't need much work then. Hindsight remains 20/20, probably a lot more attractive with beer glasses too.

I expected the day after to be filled with more fireworks. What happened to the fury of a woman scored? Thank God there's a TV.

Private to Boy Blue;

Tell me again why 'your friend' isn't asking to make an appointment for himself?
vicodincrutch: (cuppa stfu/u r dum/uh yeah)
Okay, boozehounds and crunkatonics. While I'm just as chipper at the green light for a Citywide frat party, here's something to chew on. Alcohol poisoning might be what the deities are out for. Think of it, an easy way to pick off a few of the masses.

Keep an eye out for the big tell tale signs:
  • Mental confusion, stupor, coma, or person cannot be roused
  • Vomiting.
  • Seizures.
  • Slow breathing (fewer than eight breaths per minute).
  • Irregular breathing (10 seconds or more between breaths).
  • Hypothermia (low body temperature), bluish skin color (unless you're blue), paleness.
This party needs more wet t-shirts. It can be done indoors. That's why we've got a central heating system.

Anyway, another idea. If you're truly a square and don't want to man up and drink your 100 bottles, why not mix the root beer and circulate. Then you really won't die and keep on living your life as a wienie.
vicodincrutch: (glare/not funny/serious business)
I've seen some displays of sap. But you? I feel like I've been nursing off of a redwood. One more holiday to go and then the season of peak insincerity can finally come to a close. Do we all really love each other with that wishes of peace? I mean, besides the nazis. That's more than a little obvious. And the monsters. Nazis and monsters aside, do you honestly give a crap about everyone else? No. You don't. Because you can't possibly have feelings for every single person. It's not logical also more than half of you are idiots.

While I'm on a roll: City made the Zombie AIDS and then cured it. Game over with a fizzle. No hunt. No build up. I can't think of a time I've been this disappointed. The deities should stick to playing another game and leave mine alone.
vicodincrutch: (studying/hmmm/)
Oh. This is sanitary.

I suggest any consumption of food be done through a straw. Those prophetic milkshakes are no where to be found. Unless you want to step out all goopy. Go for the smoothy. I only say this because you wouldn't want to digest what you're wearing unless you're exempt from HIV and AIDS or what them. Or you're a vampire, that requires licking people. Not all of them are attractive. I wouldn't lick someone ugly if they were covered in barbecue sauce. Claire Danes, Carmen Electra, Gwen Stefani...sure, easy. I can't think of a scenario that they would be covered in barbecue sauce and in my general vicinity. Oh but if they were...

While we're all down and grimey, who wants to fill out a survey?

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Dr. Greg House, MD

September 2016

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