A Weekend with Dr. Paul

Random quotes/tid-bits from a fun-filled weekend with Dr. Paul last March:

"How would you feel a lump in that?"
Referring to ... oh god only knows what. Either a banana or a melon, but it involved fruit in some capacity!

High school Latin Club scavenger hunt
Certainly a way to carpe diem- Paul used to be a member of the Latin Club, "Latin" being short for "Less Awkward Than Introverted Nerds" (or are they?) that led earnest scavenger hunts throughout the city in search of clues, declensions, and a reason to wake up the following morning.

Aerobics room
While attending a fancy-schmancy reception for the hospital, one couldn't help but notice that the area/room used for dining was marked in one exterior hallway as the aerobics room. This is the one area of the hospital where I imagine bending over won't result in a sharp needle being shoved into your buttocks (what happens in the showers, however, is anyone's guess).

"We are the gayest people in this church!"
The aforementioned aerobics room was actually a church converted (wink) into a multipurpose room (eat, sweat, and ... well, whatever happens in the shower)

"Oh my god Norah!"
As Dr. Paul and I were practically the only two gay men in a room of complete WASPs, we felt it our duty to gasp and clasp hands like 12-year-old teenie-boppers at an NSYNC concert and scream.

"That is what you use alpaca fibers for - feel it bitch, feel it! That's what alpaca's for!!!!"
An exuberant Dr. Paul was insistent that I feel his scarf made of alpaca fibers. Immediately after, he took me to his backyard where his neighbors keep their alpacas. It was like giving me a beautiful emerald necklace and then showing me the dead grandmother's body where he had ripped the jewelry from. Nice.

"Are you saying we have gay alpaca?"
Perhaps it is in their nature, or the contagious gaiety about me, but upon notice that they had visitors to the backyard the alpacas began sniffing and moving in slightly erogenous ways.

Deaf child area
After seeing this sign on the road I kept my eyes peeled for a gathering of deaf children. It seemed, however, that the herd (wink) had moved on...

My to do list: learn Chinese, testicular exam
After consultation with Dr. Paul it was very clear to me that there were two things on my extensive and ever-growing to-do list that needed to be completed before the end of the weekend. Learning Chinese was a breeze, but that testicular exam proved to be long and hard.

Blueberry pancakes and my new wife....
It is rare that I would promise my affections to the opposite sex. The blueberry pancakes of a local diner, however, had me in a matrimonial tizzy on Saturday morning. I could live out the rest of my sex life depending on alcohol and a face-mask of Brad Pitt, right?

"I'm gonna get loads and loads of juicy bloody cootch"
By far the most outrageous quote of the weekend, in vulgarity and in just plain ewww-ness, Dr. Paul comments on his next rotation in his residency. Sadly, this would also be the fate that befalls me should I accept the offer of free blueberry pancakes for life. But I got the better end (wink) of this deal; at least I can practice medicine in the dark.

What the f*#%???

-Passing a group of tourists who were on a paid professional tour … and admiring the features of a parking lot.

-Two signs: the first, “Traffic calming area”, followed quickly by “Humps”. What’s so calming about that?!?

-A deranged man on the Q2 bus, who chuckled at invisible objects for about 30 minutes and then abruptly turned to me to ask, “Are you Jewish?”

-A man in the Greyhound bus station doing unnecessarily loud yoga in the middle of the waiting area (pants, moans, and other uncomfortable noises that you would rather hear in a porno, and not while sitting next to a scary homeless man picking his feet)

-Wondering what “folate” is, and why there is 30% of it in an orange juice bottle.

-A man on the Metro carrying a sign and swinging it in a hypnotic fashion, reading “The Vatican hides pedophiles”.

-Quote from a Wheat Thins box: “try this delicious, entertaining recipe with your family and friends … refried red beans with tomato and poblano”. I suppose the aftermath of this recipe would be entertaining to some families, like that of the Nutty Professor.

-Seeing “valet parking” at a hospital

-Driving past the Happy Tails dog spa … what?

-Passing a group of young blondes on the street, when one of them comments, “Oh my god! I don’t even know what a good IQ is!!!”

All breads are not created Così (the same)

*DING*

And the pressing duel between the oven-baked delights of the chain
restaurant conglomerates begins!

In one corner we have the tried-and-true baguette from Au Bon Pain(which, as the name suggests, should at least be "good"). In the othercorner is the multigrain flatbread by sandwich extraordinaire Cosi (Italians pronounce it /koh-ZEE/).

Strangely, the bread from Au Bon Pain sets up an unexpected cognatebetween "Pain" in the company name (French) and "pain" (American Englishfor "ouch" or "watching Keanu Reeves act") in the process of consumingthis seemingly innocent baguette. "Faux amis", indeed.

The manner in which one must eat a baguette from ABP is analogous toripping the uncooked chicken meat off of a thigh bone that's been leftin the freezer. You clamp down with all your might, squeezing andwiggling your dainty baguette until the seemingly welded pieces of flourfinally cave and send your head in a backward thrust that resembles thetrauma of whiplash victims (there is rumor that the CEO of ABP sits on the board of the American Chiropractor Association).

Così offers a non-violent approach to bread-consumption: soft, chewy,and wholesome goodness that massages your taste buds with every bite.

Perhaps the breads are symbolic of their native peoples: the Italianflatbread (pleasant, palatable, and memorable), and the French baguette (stale, rough, and painful).

Incidentally, while in France in 2005 I met a random guy who took me ona romantic stroll of the city. Towards the end of our Tour de Nowheresville (and after some kissing of the French sort), we came across a discarded baguette in the street. Frenchy-boy stomped feverishly on it and yelled "This.... this is the.... the SHIT of France!!!"

Merde!!! Even the French don't like their bread.

Oreos are not gluten free

Easter dinner, 2007

A very interesting idea for 21st century cuisine and dining, especially with food allergies and preferences running amok. Why not include a label for every item in a buffet, indicating which foods are gluten-free, vegetarian-select (watch out for marshmallows, do not be fooled by their seemingly herbivorous qualities!), and choked full o' nuts!

David: "But ... why are food allergies all of a sudden all the rage? Where were all those people 100 years ago, and what did they do?"

Brayde: "Well ... all those people died."

Problem solved. Until we get back to compliance with Darwin and laws of natural selection, post-it notes will have to suffice.

KFC (Kite Flying Club)

Very interesting photo: the lady bug, free to flow in the fluttering frenzied wind is teetering between the ominous stormy clouds of winter and the striking sapphire skies of spring. The wind, like the weather of DC, is unpredictably harsh.

Cute Easter Food

Cutest idea, stolen from Bread & Chocolate:

"Bird's nest" cupcake, eggs are jelly beans and grass is died coconut
shreds.

Disturbingly Informative

http://www.collphyphil.org/mutter.asp

Disturbing- yes. Informative- sure. And no, we aren't talking about Fox News (well, the "informative" part should have tipped you). The Mütter Museum of Philadelphia is not all bells and whistles like the newscasts of the information age; rather, it is a splendid educational journey into the depths of human deformity and anomalies.

"But wait, David," you say. "If we wanted to watch the human race at its worst, couldn't we just catch an episode of Big Brother?"

Yes friends, you could. But in going to the Mütter you could simply imagine that the skeletal remains laid out before you are the skinned carcasses of those very beloved Big Brother characters-- or anyone from a reality series, for that matter.

Most of the displays at the Mütter involve the field of teratology, meaning: "the study of malformations or serious deviations from the normal type in developing organisms".

Wait... isn't that the same as gynaecology??? "Oh no he didn't !!!" Just teasing ... *dodges fruit*

At the exit of the museum there is a guest book where visitors can write their candid reactions to the exhibits; here are a few that I considered worth of note:

- "shriveled penis is gross"
- the following adjectives: "rank, gnar, sexy, rocks, barf, nasty"
- "it's like a car crash- you want to look away, but can't!!!!"

- "I see dead people"
- "yay dead babies!"
- "Where's Bush's brain?" (silly question ... and where's that unicorn while we're at it???)
- "Loss of appetite and erectile dysfunction"
- "I could go for some applesauce"
- "I love Ben Franklin!"
- "Being an undertaker, this was lovely to see!" (this also reminded me that I've always wanted to meet an undertaker ... guess it got buried on my to-do list...)
- "Bob Dylan should come here!"
- "I want to shower with the soap lady!" (there was a display with an obese woman whose body had "fossilized" into soap)

- "I keep skeletons in my closet and nobody knows" (um..... what?)

So let's sum up the Mütter experience: you come, you're intriguingly appalled, grotesquely fascinated that these things could ever happen, lose your appetite, and you are in dire need of a good shower.

Quite like attending the Republican National Convention, I imagine ...