Everyone Just Says Whatever (post 1)

      Alright, imagine that the readers of "The Gummer Chronicles" (including especially you) have been forwarding the link to other people, and that those people have been forwarding the link to other other people and that the link has gotten into the right hands and is now an actual book. In this book, the longer essays of "The Gummer Chronicles" are mixed with blurbier mini-thangs called "Everyone Just Says Whatever". The blurbier mini-thangs are quotes of the unfiltered crap that gets said in this house. 
    I was going to make a separate page on this site for these blurby thangs, but I have other things that I can overcomplicate if need be. (It's like a nesting instinct. Sometimes I just need to mess something up. That's usually when I decide I would look better with bangs.)
   Anyway, so the "Everyone Just Says Whatever" posts are going to be mixed in with the TGC posts. They are more likely to include profanity and innuendo. If that is a problem, skip 'em:

That said:

       Last week, I was going to the gynecologist and then to yet another board of education office to submit yet another document which will have no effect on my employment status since educated and experienced special ed teachers who don't coach football apparently aren't in any district's budget.      
      As I was leaving the house, I said goodbye to The Gummer. I made sure that I was making eye contact and smiling my girliest "Girl Who Goes to the Mall to Buy Handbags at Macy's" smile:
               "Bye, Mom.  I'm going to go let a pretty girl look at my vagina and then
                do some education-related stuff. It'll be like being at U of I again."
      She giggled.

      A few days later, I was scheduled for an ultrasound to check out the giganticus blob o' probable hernia in my abdomen. The night before, I told The Gummer that I was going to ask for the big, black probe. (I did. The radiology medium giggled cooperatively and became very interested in pushing buttons on the ultrathing.) (That bit should have gone much better.)
      Later, I told The Gummer about the results of the ultrasound. The focal point was supposed to be the radiology medium's opinion that my gall bladder, kidneys, and liver all appeared to be fine. The possibility that my liver could have survived 15 years of commitment to Athens, GA is stunning. Even with The Gummer's partial information, the liver comment alone should have cued a "Quoi?"
      She was also supposed to hone in on the radiology medium's hernia notion. WITHOUT GIVING THE IMPRESSION OF ANY OFFICIAL DIAGNOSIS (I liked the radiology medium and my gyno said she'd check out "The Chronicles"), she said that Blobbo's failure to appear on screen was typical of a hernia. Hernias are on  the acceptable end of the diagnostic spectrum.
      The Gummer apparently needs to go back and do some of that color-coded (with weird brown and turquoise and magenta and peach and seafoam... and, yes, I scored high on the facebook autism quiz)  SRA crap we did in elementary school. Someone needs to work on identifying the main idea by repeatedly completing the sentence:"A good title for this essay would be...."
      When I told her that I made the probe comment and that the probe was the size of a giganticus curling iron, she said  "Well, you asked for it."











 

Be a Fan