Call me neurotic, but I am pretty particular about my skin holes. By skin holes, I am referring to cuts, lacerations, and punctures–pretty much anything that leaves my innards exposed. As people commissioned to protect said innards, I expect health care professionals to be equally, if not more, attentive to safe medical practices than I am.
Enter sloppy nurse. We’ll call her Nursey McSlopperson. If anyone out there actually has the surname “McSlopperson,” I apologize and add that any likeness to any member of the McSlopperson clan is purely coincidental. Then again, if your name is actually McSlopperson, you should really consider changing it–particularly if you are planning on entering the medical profession.
At first glance, Nurse McSlopperson is anything but scary. But don’t let her Spongebob scrubs fool you.
Sponges are harbingers of all sorts of nasty bacteria. Spongebob is a walking cesspool of filth.
I regularly get allergy shots at Mrs. McSlopperson’s place of business–we’ll call it The Doctor’s Office That Employs Nurse McSlopperson. There are other nurses here too. They are not sloppy. They wear Snoopy and Mickey Mouse scrubs. They are harmless and nice. Unfortunately, I seem to get Sloppy Nurse more often than not.
Why is she sloppy? I don’t know. Maybe her mom, Mother McSlopperson, never taught her basic hygiene. Maybe her mother was also a sloppy nurse. Oh, you meant “why do Ithink she is sloppy?” Here’s why. When you get a needle, it leaves a perfect little hole–an entrance into the inner workings of your body. A sterile band-aid is needed to close that point-of-entry and protect your guts from foreign invaders. “Sterile” is the operative word.
Nurse McSlopperson, however, peels the band-aid open and sticks it on herself, gives me the needle, and peels the band-aid off her own skin and applies it to mine. This, in my opinion, is disgusting. Who knows what strange microbes lurk on her epidermis. She could be harboring a flesh-eating fugitive. She may not have washed her hands after using the washroom. A dog may have licked her hand after licking his balls. She may have just finished giving a woman with chlamydia a PAP smear. Anything is possible. And everything goes through my mind.
I can almost feel the dude with the cowboy boots sidling through my blood stream.
The most troubling problem is that I cannot wash my innards. Whatever toxic slurry traveled from her skins cells into my needle hole are now gnawing their way through my bloodstream, digging their dirty fingernails across my organs, and pooping on my cells. No amount of Purell can fix that. I’m not going to sleep tonight. I sort of feel like this…
Do you think this is a sloppy nurse or am I just being my overly neurotic self?
The bunny rabbit is probably one of nature’s gentlest creatures—from the tip of its twitching nose to the end of its puffy cottontail, everything about a bunny screams out “hug me.” Even the name “bunny” is sweet—hence its pairing with the words “honey” and “snuggle.” Heck, the rabbit is even too gentle to eat other animals—preferring, instead, to nibble demurely on tender greens.
Yes, in the animal kingdom, the bunny rabbit is a seemingly well-adjusted pacifist who is comfortable in his own fur. But every once in awhile, we come across a troubled specimen—a rabbit that is simply unable to adhere to his society’s expectation of what a rabbit should be. Here is a list of some of our favourite non-traditional hares, the ones we’ll refer to as “bunnies with issues.”
Despite his impeccable grooming and formal attire, Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit demonstrates an intense preoccupation with time and punctuality. He appears to suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and an unhealthy attachment to his clock.
He also exercises negligence—bordering on the criminal sort—by luring unsuspecting females into his hole, showing little regard for their mental and physical safety. This fastidious clock-watcher and abductor is, indeed, a bunny with serious issues.
The Cadbury Bunny does provide a greatly appreciated service to the human population, but he does so at great expense to his psychological well-being. He is a rabbit who believes that he is a chicken. As a result, he can no longer communicate with his fellow bunnies—preferring, instead, to cluck.
His alter ego is so strong that he has actually undergone severe physiological changes—changes so horrific that he is now able to lay eggs. Even more disturbing, these eggs appear to be covered in shiny foil. This delusional bunny may, in fact, require institutionalization before his rabbit qualities are lost forever—but, for now, he simply remains one of the world’s most troubled bunnies.
The Energizer Bunny
The Energizer Bunny may appear to have his act together. He has held a steady job for several years, he believes in protecting his eyes from the sun’s harmful rays, and he plays a musical instrument. But beneath his seemingly polished appearance lurks a raving workaholic—willing to sacrifice life and limb for the sake of his career.
His dedication and reliability may have earned him a stellar reputation among Hollywood’s movers and shakers, but it has also left him with no time for friends or family. Like a chocolate Easter bunny, he is a shell of a rabbit with only his career to keep him alive.
His job has also put him in harm’s way on several occasions including encounters with Darth Vader, Dracula, Wile E Coyote, and King Kong. He has even endured an alien abduction where he underwent God-only-knows what types of unspeakable torture.
Whether the root of his troubles stem from schoolyard teasing about his baby pink fur or from being launched into a life of fame at an early age, the fact remains—he is one twisted little bunny with a whack of issues.
The Open Season Rabbits
Admittedly, rabbits are not exactly the Vin Diesel’s of the animal kingdom—nor do we expect them to be. They abhor violence and are rarely the aggressors in forest melees. But that is not to say that they suffer from low self-esteem or that they willingly assume the role of a doormat—or a bunny fur rug. They do not voluntarily surrender carrots to their foes. And they certainly would not willingly give you their foot—good luck or not.
This is why the bunnies of Open Season are so disturbing. A psychologically healthy bunny would not let you catch him in the first place, but if he was having a slow day and you did happen to snatch him up—he would not passively allow you to fling him at a window. And he would surely not stand idly by and wait for you to do it again. These bunnies are obviously in need of therapy to cope with their many issues. And they may also require CT scans.
The Nestle Quik Bunny
The Nestle Quik Bunny is, perhaps, the most poignant example of a rabbit suffering from the effects of substance abuse. This short brown fellow with the pink button nose will sacrifice all of his hopes and dreams—achieving the high score in his favourite video game, mastering the art of ping-pong, and reading great masterpieces—to acquire his next hit of this rich and thick chocolate beverage. Armed with a straw and a spoon, this addicted little fellow has been known to lapse into prolonged periods of depression if denied his drug of choice. It is his addictive personality that has earned him a spot on this Top 10.
Harvey, the six-foot tall and invisible rabbit, likely suffered a great deal of taunting as a young bunny. But the havoc he unleashed on poor Elwood P. Dowd’s life was unthinkable. Revealing himself only to Mr. Dowd, Harvey became the lonely man’s best friend and confidante—all the while guarding his own identity in a CIA-like fashion that even the Snuffleupagus would envy. And poor Mr. Dowd quickly became the town laughing stalk.
A sane bunny would have revealed himself and eased his human companion’s pain. Harvey Rabbit may have been the victim of a painful childhood or, perhaps, he suffered from an extreme personality disorder. Either way, Harvey’s lack of transparency—that, ironically, was caused by an excess of transparency—makes him a bunny with major issues.
As a master con artist, Boingo Bunny, has cleverly duped his fellow woodland creatures into believing that he is something he is not—a a mild-manner lagomorph who wouldn’t hurt a soul. This false persona enables him to get his filthy little paws—no, really, they’re filthy–on many a stolen confectionary. Of course, his furry white brows, rusty brown belly, and penchant for carrot crumpets make him an endearing little fellow, aiding his evil plans.
Perhaps, Boingo’s problems manifested after losing his coveted job working for the Muffin Man. Or maybe he was dropped on his head several times as an infant. Whatever the cause, Boingo obviously suffers from some deep-seeded psychological issues that have led him to abandon his good nature and choose, instead, a life of malicious crime. Indeed, Boingo is a bunny who suffers from serious mental problems.
Wallace & Gromit’s Were-Rabbit
Wallace’s alter ego, the Were-Rabbit, demonstrates why God made rabbits small. Much of a bunny’s image as a docile, gentle creature can be attributed to its meagre size. If you enlarge even the sanest of rabbits to the size of the Volkswagen that bears their name, the result will be anything but demure. Bunny hops will become earth shattering. And a ravenous monster rabbit or “were-hare”—now I know why they didn’t use that name in the title—would be capable of wiping out a farmer’s market stand in no time, leaving nothing behind but a heap of useless melon rinds and lettuce cores. The Were-Rabbit, perhaps, could benefit from extensive behaviour modifications in order to adjust to life as an overly large rabbit.
It would seem that the bigger the bunny, the bigger their issues.
Now Roger isn’t a bad bunny. In fact, if a real rabbit were to be anthropomorphized, he is pretty much how many of us imagine one would be—fun loving, energetic, and desperately in need of Ritalin. Much of the troubles that he experiences in his life can actually be attributed to the fact that he possesses a relatively low intelligence quotient—making him a prime target for manipulation.
Roger also suffers from the most intense allergic reaction to alcohol that the research community has ever observed. One drink transforms this simple-mind, but loveable bunny into a force of unstoppable destruction—annihilating everything in his wake. Roger’s alcohol-riddled alter ego and dim wit earn him a spot as a bunny in need of help.
Bugs Bunny is a classic example of a rabbit who suffers from multiple psychological issues. Admittedly, Bugs possesses the highest IQ that the scientific world has ever encountered within the rodent order. It is, perhaps, his immeasurable intelligence that has caused him to be ostracized by his fellow rabbits—forcing him to adopt the role of human.
Bugs’ delusions of grandeur have earned him countless enemies, which include in their numbers several humans, one duck, a coyote, an extra-terrestrial, a witch, and a large red hairy thing. Bugs exhibits an inability to get along with others, which is exacerbated by the fact that he is extremely paranoid—believing that everyone he encounters is “out to get him.” His irrational fears often lead to bizarre behaviours such as wearing women’s clothing and lashing out with violent acts.
It would also appear that the laws of gravity do not affect him.
Bugs is a bunny with multiple issues who could likely keep a therapist busy for years—earning him the number one spot on our list.
I am constipated. Unfortunately, this is all I can think about right now. And, as a result, this preoccupation will be reflected in today’s writing. After several false alarms where I thought I was actually going to get some relief, only to find a mere smattering of constipation pellets in the bowl, I have decided to give in and consume the toxic-tasting–but extremely effective–slurry of mystery ingredients all ending in “xide” and “trate,” otherwise known as Milk of Magnesia.
The name, in itself, is misleading. Milk does not taste like a combination of mint, chalk, and fish oil. And “Magnesia” sounds like a derivative of “magnificent,” which I can assure you, it is not. It also makes me think of the Rational Youth song, Saturdays in Silesia—which sounded better in the eighties.
So, anyways, my guts are rumbling.
As you already know, I am completely neurotic. And my sloth-like colon has given me something new to worry about. What if my intestines simply explode? I just had the kitchen walls painted.
1) Thankfully, after a quick perusal of Google, I have learned that my situation is not quite as dire as I first thought. Back in 2013, a housewife in Mumbai underwent what, in my opinion, would be a horrifying surgery. They removed a “football sized” lump of crap from her colon. And, wait, it gets worse. This poor woman had not had a bowel movement for 45 days. Yes, that is over 6 weeks without pooping. I have 43 days to go.
2) It seems that some people have the opposite problem. They can poop anywhere at any time. In fact, they can perform a rectal flush on command. With an audience.
In case you haven’t already encountered this case, meet the crazy feces-flinger from British Columbia, Canada. Not only did she yank down her drawers in the middle of the donut shop, but she proceeded to take a dump, pick it up and fling it at the employees. I bet everyone involved had a crappy day.
3) I really shouldn’t complain about constipation. It could be worse. I could suffer from explosive diarrhea. Or worse–explosive nocturnal diarrhea.
Imagine having to get up several times each night to relieve your screaming bowels. Knowing my luck–I have, after all, thrown up on my steering wheel–I would get the explosive diarrhea without the “getting up” part. My husband and, heaven forbid, my stuffed animals would be covered in excrement. My husband is, at least, washable. Although, he’d never let me hear the end of it. “You crapped all over me last night. Blah, blah, blah…” So much drama.
Well, the Milk of Magnesia is starting to work. Time to grab the Poo-pourri.