BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Okay, I admit it. I read Reuters Oddly Enough news… Actually, it’s not so much news as it is a mini blog that takes somewhat odd news stories and showcases them… Or, relatively normal stories and puts an odd spin on them… Whatever seems to work at the time, I suppose. Especially if it’s a slow news day. (You know, things just aren’t the same as they were back when I was studying Journalism, but that’s another story entirely…)

So, anyway, back to the lecherous, filthy elf… One of the “Oddly Enough” features on 12/10 was a list of links to odd holiday tales. As with many blogs, comments are allowed and beneath this one there were three, two of which lamented the fact that when they were kids, Christmas was about the Church and not Santa…

Well, I could wax prophetic all about how they are a bit misguided since Christmas is actually a hijacked holiday known as Yule, and that it really occurs on the Winter Solstice. That, and the fact that there is overwhelming evidence that Jesus – divinely conceived child of “God” or not, doesn’t really matter – wasn’t born on December 25th, and in fact wasn’t born anywhere near December at all. But, once again, all that goes to a different blog, which quite honestly has been beaten to death and there is no real reason for me to go into it other than the illustration above.

Now, I will concede that there was a valid point to the comments – that being the whole Santa thing. I mean, when you look at it historically – and worldwide for that matter – this whole Santa Claus legend/myth has several different avenues, turns, detours, and bizarre stories it takes – up to and including sidekicks such as “Black Pete” (I’ll have to tell you the story about my own personal confusion on the Black Pete mythos sometime… Let’s just say I had it correct all except for the name… Seems that in my twisted brain he became Black Bob, but again, another story for another time…)

Anywho, we are all pretty much aware – and if you aren’t you are about to get educated – that the present “American” incarnation of Santa Claus is the product of marketing by a soft drink company. Yeah, no kidding. Look it up.

But, as usual, I have digressed a bit.

You see, the thing that really got me about the comments on the Oddly Enough blog was that one of them referred to Santa Claus as, and I quote, “…an all-knowing, omnipresent, pedophiliac old man…”

Well, all knowing, yeah, I guess I can give you that. Omnipresent, well yeah, that too. I mean, according to the myth the fat bastard DOES manage to get around the entire globe in a single 24 hour period, all while making countless stops.

However… pedophiliac? Never mind the fact that we have a noun-adjective-noun combination there that just drives me insane (i.e. grammatically it should be pedophilic old man)… But, like I said, let’s ignore the creation of a new part of speech here, that being the nounective… or adjenoun… and just focus on what this person is attempting to say.

This “commentator” just called Santa Claus a child molester…

Now, I am not sure about the rest of you but there was no time in my life, as a child or as an adult, when I ever heard of Santa Claus molesting a kid. I never heard a single story about the Jolly Old Elf having any such interest in children. Hell, I never heard a single story about Santa even having an interest in his wife, much less kids.

Sure, now that I am an adult I have seen the “adult” cartoons that run about the net, featuring Santa mooning you, or getting laid, or what have you… But, not with kids, and I definitely didn’t see this stuff until I was an adult.

Sooooo… If the commentator above grew up believing that Santa Claus is a Pedophile, then you have to wonder what this person’s parents were telling her…Or, dare I say it? What happened to her as a child… It boggles the mind. Well, it boggles MY mind…

You know… Having read that particular comment actually made me a bit angry… You see, my Grandfather, Elvis Babb, used to play Santa at the local store back in the small town of Fulton, KY where I am from, and he was a hell of a guy. A hell of a Santa too.

For someone to say Santa is a Pedophile sullies the reputation of Santa’s everywhere, including the memory of my Grandfather… Shame on her.

More to come…

Murv

As always, while this blog is certainly an opinion piece, it is written tongue in cheek and intended to entertain.

Well, the point behind this whole blog thing is to share, correct? This is where you come to learn silly and little known stuff about yours truly…my meandering thoughts, and generally discombobulated logic, all spilled out onto the page so you can say, “Hey, did you know MR is a freakin’ lunatic?”

Am I right? Thought so…

Okay, so on with the “man boobie” thing. My entire life I have suffered from a condition called Gynecomastia. That being “male breasts”…Now, what I’m talking about here is not fat guy man boobies (although I readily admit I could stand to lose a few pounds…) Even when I was much younger and much thinner (yes, Virginia, I used to be a pretty good looking guy) I had this affliction. In fact, when I was thinner, it was even more pronounced.

One of the things about my particular case is that I was asymmetrical…I was flat chested on one side, and sporting a breast on the other. For years I have strapped the damn thing in, worn oversized shirts, etc, in order to conceal this “deformity” which I found embarrassing. (Okay folks, stop laughing, because I really am baring my soul here.) To give you an idea of how traumatic this affliction can be, think adolescent boys and locker rooms. Pretty bad visual of taunting there, eh? I’ll go you one better. Think about getting intimate with a member of the opposite sex, only to have her laugh at you when you remove your shirt…

Been there…Got the oversized t-shirt…

So…Why am I baring my soul here? Well, I received a number of well wishes in response to my “under the knife” blog post, so I thought I’d fill you in on what the knife was all about…

Fortunately, my man boobie wasn’t like a double-d or something…(Again, don’t laugh, because there are men out there afflicted with such who require extremely expensive and invasive surgery if they want this corrected)…Me, I wasn’t that big, but big enough to be easily noticed…Soooo, since I was actually small enough to not require the MAJOR surgery, earlier this year I underwent “Mesotherapy” (sometimes billed as Lipo Dissolve)…It is a process whereby medicines, vitamins, or in my case, a naturally occuring enzyme, is injected in high concentrations into fatty tissues. This can be done in order to administer vitamins or other medication. The particular form of Mesotherapy I had was to literally dissolve the fatty tissues (hence the term Lipo Dissolve or Lipo Therapy)…After several treatments the gynecomastia had been greatly reduced…Enough so, in fact, that my self-esteem got a major boost. However, my doctor, Amy Miller, was certain she could do more than simply reduce it. She was on a mission to make it go away. (Gotta love the doc, she’s a blast…)

Anyway, toward that end, we waited until my touring season was finished and I had some free time to undergo a slightly more radical procedure. Yesterday was that free time. I had actual Tumescent Liposuction to remove the rest of the fatty, glandular, and fibrous tissues that were responsible for my lopsided man boobie.

The process, in and of itself, took a couple of hours, and while it wasn’t what I would call terribly painful, near the end it did get a bit on the uncomfortable side. Not the doc’s fault, just part of the game. Sooooo, while “going under the knife” was probably not the most accurate title for yesterday morning’s blog entry, it was close enough. (she put a couple of holes in my chest and took stuff out, so that’s close enough in my book anyway .)

I was awake during the procedure, and I threatened repeatedly to blog the silliness that was ensuing– Think about it, you’ve got me, the guy who can’t take ANYTHING seriously on the table, and you got the doc and the nurse, Dawn, there for me to entertain. Throw into the mix all of the silly sounds the various medical apparatus were making, and well, you get the picture…I don’t really remember everything clearly (they doped me with a valium or something) but I remember all of us laughing, and I think I might have been funny and entertaining (at least, I hope I was, because I have a follow-up appointment! )

Anyhow, here I sit, with bodily type fluids draining from the holes into dressings that are taped to my chest (and itching like a mother!)…I am also wearing a compression vest sort of garment, which I will be wearing for another couple of weeks (or, as Dr. Miller put it to EK, however long she wants me to wear it…I just knew those two would get along fine )

There you have it…My tale of man boobies…Of which I no longer am in possession…In about 6 months the skin should have tightened up and I can go about my life being happily flat chested

BTW, I put all of the links throughout so y’all could see what I was talking about…I’m sure it probably looks like “product placement,” and I DO heartily reccomend Dr. Miller to anyone considering any of the procedures she does…Why? Not only is she a hell of a doctor, she actually takes time to talk to you. She doesn’t wave a clipboard at you and say “smear this crap on your face and call me in a week…” She’s a real person who treats her patients like real people, and I have to tell you that is a rare find for doctors these days–at least in my experience…On top of that she has a killer staff…Adrienne and Ivy are great, and the nurse who helped with the procedure, Dawn was great too…Yeah, I know, there I go sounding like a commercial again…Oh well, it’s just one of those things. Just like folks do with books–they find one they like, they recommend it. I’ve found a terrific doc, and I’m recommending her…

But, I’ll stop running off at the mouth now…That’s the story and that’s the “elective surgery” I had done…So now you know…Feel enlightened?

Now, if I can just get some more exercise and get rid of this table muscle that I have developed…

MR