I ate some pudding. Snack pack. MMmmm. I eat it with a tiny oar-durrrv spoon so it makes it seem like I have lots and lots of pudding. And, yes, I know that’s not how you spell “oar-durrrv,” but the real spelling was concocted by inebriated frenchmen, so consider it changed.

I just got home from the hospital. It’s 10:44. An intern friend and I have been shadowing an on-call psychiatry resident. We were hoping to see some real craziness, but instead we saw a patient I had actually seen previously, and I was able to assist the physician. Wild.

Paul broke his toe. Wednesday night I was in the bedroom and heard a CRACK and them a tumble, and hurried out to the living room expecting to see dead bodies littering the joint. Paul had accidentally kicked the wall with his little toe, and while not dead, he could also not be strictly described as well. Eventually we taped Little Toe to its best buddy Number Four Toe, and Paul went and got an x-ray in the morning. Bonus of the whole situation is we now own a really cool picture of the inside of Paul’s foot. His feet are so bony that I can clearly recognize his foot as his foot just by looking at his feet bones.

And finally, thanks to Dad for the updated/correct link on that Steyn article you should all read. Go here.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 14th, 2008 at 9:50 pm and is filed under From the nation of Indig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.