I would have thought this paper belonged to Tortilla. Sure the student’s name is Brian, but I believe she is perfectly capable of writing somebody else’s name on an exam paper. Yes, I have faith in her. The reason I didn’t, though, is of course the perfect score. I’m not saying she is not capable of getting a perfect score. Not at all! But knowing that she has been having trouble with chemistry, it’s very unlikely that she would have gotten a perfect score in none other than chemistry and not blogged about it.
Click on the image for a larger view.
I found that some people I showed it to had some trouble reading the kid’s handwriting. So I’ll type it out below.
First problem: Tortilla Brian writes on the left, “This class makes me lose faith in humanity. =( ” On the right, he gives the real answer.
Second problem: He writes, “Equilibrium (boring); Thermodynamics (boring), Kinetics (bow-chicka-wow-wow)”
Third problem: He writes, “A chemical compound always contains exactly the same proportion of elements by mass. Unrelated, I saw my T.A., Jimmy, kissing a dude at a party last Friday.” Note that he underlined the word “dude” multiple times.
Fourth problem: He writes, “The chick in front of me is wearing a whit-lace Victoria’s Secret T thong.” on the left. The correct answer is on the right.
Last problem for extra credit (where the teacher misspells the word ‘accuracy’): He writes, “dildo” under the third diagram.
I usually obsess about something in my backyard when I take the dogs out. And the unfortunate objects of my obsession changes, usually according to the season change. This last winter, I was obsessing about rabbit poo, this early spring about dandelions, and up until 2 days ago about bird poo and the poo of another mystery animal which seems to drop by just to go potty; can’t blame the creature, really, cause everybody else does, but is it too much to ask to at least introduce him/herself and go in certain area and stand there a little apologetically for a while until I identify the spot instead of sneaking in only when I’m not there and defiantly leave the poo in different places that I need to search for?
These days, I’m obsessing about mushrooms. With all these animals, including my dogs, feeding shit to these mushrooms, they tend to flourish in my yard during the season. I remember obsessing about them last year and the year before. When I noticed mushrooms in my backyard for the first time, I started picking them because I didn’t want my dogs accidentally eating them (if you didn’t know, mushrooms are toxic to dogs in varying degrees from vomiting and diarrhea to death). So as with everything else, I started obsessing about ridding my yard of those mushrooms, annihilating all colonies, and I comb through the entire yard every chance I get. This year, I started noticing mushrooms just the day before yesterday. I have picked more than 1,000 mushrooms from my backyard in three days. Since yesterday was sunny and dry, I only picked a little over hundred mushrooms this morning.
There are quite a variety of mushrooms in my yard and I realized that I kinda consider them as something more than fungi. For instance, when I see a little colony of brownish mushrooms with pointy heads, I feel like I’m looking at a family with wee little kids. When I see a mushroom with a very thin head that looks like a cocktail umbrella, I pick it very cautiously imagining it viciously attacking me because it reminds me of the frills that belonged to the dinosaur called Dilophosaurus I saw in Jurassic Park.
Yeah, sometimes I think to myself, yur crazy. Maybe some of these mushrooms are psychedelic and they affect my brain with their smell? Are there such shrooms? Cause these mushrooms smell weird like gasoline or something.
I haven’t posted an update on Brandy’s condition so far. I tried, but I got so frustrated all over again thinking about the two receptionists at the vet, Lorraine and Sheila, as well as Dr C, who happens to be Lorraine’s son, that I jumbled the words and stuttered badly on the keyboard, so I deleted the post. Now several days later, I’ve calmed down a bit, although still upset, I think I can get this update published.
The short version is that Brandy has vitamin B12 deficiency and bacterial overgrowth, which has been causing the diarrhea. She’s put on amoxicillin and B12 supplement. If you are bored and want to read the long version, the rest of this entry is me ranting in painstakingly minute detail about certain people, mentioned above, at the vet’s office.
Last Friday, I received a phone call from Dr. C, instead of my vet Dr. L, about the blood test results. He said Dr. L asked him to give me a call, and said Brandy’s pancreatic level was normal as with everything else except her B12 level, which was low; the course of her treatment would be to give her B12 supplement and treat her with amoxicillin twice a day for 30 days; I could pick up amoxicillin and Pet-tabs, which is a multivitamin for dogs. I asked if I couldn’t just buy B12 supplement at a drug store, and he replied that I could certainly do that. Now my mistake at that point was to assume that he would have offered to call in the prescription for me at my local pharmacy IF amoxicillin was NOT a medication only available at veterinary facilities. Because Dr. L had offered to call in prescriptions for me twice already this year, I assumed amoxicillin was something not available at pharmacies.
The next day, SATURDAY mind you, I left home around 9:45am to pick up amoxicillin at the vet, which is usually about 40-45 minute drive. But after driving for 15 minutes or so on Long Island Expressway, the traffic came to a complete halt. Fortunately, I was right next to an exit, and I took the exit along with everybody else who was lucky enough to not have passed this exit. I drove on the service road at 0.00314 mile per hour and found out LIE was closed for 3 subsequent exits because of a tractor trailer crash. I finally got back on the LIE and flew to the vet’s office.
I told Sheila that I was there to pick up amoxicillin. For whom? she asked. Brandy, I answered. Last name? she asked. Kimn, K-I-M-N, I answered. Sheila opened a cabinet and started looking for it. Then she said quite contemptuously, Did you call it in? You HAVE to call it in first. It’s not here. You can’t just walk in and… I interrupted quite irritably, No, I didn’t call it in. Dr. C called ME yesterday. Flustered, Sheila proceeded to take out a basket from the cabinet and went through it. She took another basket out and went through it. She typed in my name on the computer apparently looking to verify my story. She went through the baskets again. She got up and walked to the back room, came back out, started the search again. She went to the back room again, came back out, searched for it again. Lorraine interfered and she walked to the back room, came back out, typed my information again on the computer. Lorraine and Sheila whispered this and that to each other. And Lorraine started going through the baskets again, when she grabbed a pill bottle and handed it to Sheila. Sheila said, Oh, I was looking for an envelope, not a bottle! Lorraine answered, Clavamox is in the envelope, not amoxicillin.
Increasingly irritated and impatient, yet relieved that I was getting the thing I drove all the way there for, I proceeded to pay and asked, so amoxicillin is not something that can be called in to a pharmacy? Lorraine answered sheepishly, We can call it in. But they look different. If you get it from a pharmacy, they don’t look the same.
(WARNING! The following paragraph not appropriate for children. Parental guidance strongly advised.)
With that, I turned around very quickly and got the fuck out of that place before I start yelling obscenities and end up getting banned from there. I mean, IT LOOKS DIFFERENT? FOR REAL? BIG! FUCKING! DEAL! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I GIVE A FUCKING SHIT ABOUT WHAT THE FUCK IT FUCKING LOOKS LIKE?!?! WHY THE FUCK DID I FUCKING HAVE TO DRIVE ALL THE FUCKING WAY THERE???? I WASTED THREE FUCKING HOURS THAT FUCKING DAY BECAUSE THE FUCKING CRASH WAS STILL BEING INVESTIGATED WHICH CAUSED THE FUCKING RUBBERNECKERS SO BREAK-FUCKING-HAPPY THAT MADE THE FUCKING TRAFFIC TO SLOW THE FUCK DOWN ON MY WAY BACK HOME AS WELL. AND HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION TO THE FUCKING PRICE OF FUCKING GAS THESE FUCKING DAYS? IT FUCKING COST ME TWENTY FUCKING BUCKS ROUND FUCKING TRIP! AND I COULD HAVE PICKED THIS FUCKING THING UP AT MY PHARMACY HALF A FUCKING MILE AWAY FROM ME?
One day last week, out of nowhere, under the blue sky, this mosquito very quietly launched a sneak-a-bite attack on my right shoulder and upper arm area. I feel my blood being sucked out of me only half the time when the bloodsucking is in progress, and this mosquito knew how to insert her proboscis without arousing any other sensation in me. I realized I got bitten, not once, but THREE times, only after the mosquito departed, obviously about to burst from the feast. I was, and still am very furious about this incident and still nursing – read scratching until I bleed – the bite wounds. Only yesterday evening, I had the opportunity to get my revenge by squashing a pair of them mating and spraying two more with my trusty lemon scented Clorox cleaner.
I have a bad feeling about this mosquito season. I’ve been already bitten half as many times as I was the last season, and the full-fledged mosquito season is not even here yet. The score is pathetic. During the last season’s battle with mosquitoes, when mosquitoes’ score was about 4, my score probably was at about 500 or so. I’m more than a little worried that this year’s battle will not be as one-sided as the last two years. I need a new strategy… Anyone? Anyone?
It’s just totally wrong for a Diva Inu to be seen relaxing with her legs not crossed in public. It’s just not right, I tell you.
Serious Stuff. Seriously
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