It Wasn't Me! Honest!

Apparently high school has changed a little since the '80's--
(from CNN):

Police use stun guns on greased, naked student
POSTED: 1428 GMT (2228 HKT), January 30, 2007
Story Highlights• Student rubs body with oil and runs naked through school cafeteria, police say
• Police used a stun gun on him, but the student got up and kept running
• Frightened students huddled in a corner
• Taylor Killian, 18, is in jail, charged with inducing panic and other offenses
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WESTERVILLE, Ohio (AP) -- A high school lunch period was disrupted Monday by a greased, naked student who ran around screaming and flailing his arms until police twice used a stun gun on him, authorities said.

Taylor Killian, 18, had rubbed his body with grapeseed oil to keep from being caught, and got up after the first time he was shocked to continue running toward a group of frightened students huddled in a corner at Westerville North High School, Lt. Jeff Gaylor said.

"That prank went a little farther than he intended, I guess," Gaylor said.

Officer Doug Staysniak was monitoring the lunch period when Killian, with long hair and a full beard, ran in the room toward students, who screamed and ran away. The officer is normally assigned to a middle school and did not recognize Killian as a student, Gaylor said.

Police said that an administrator ordered Killian to stop, but that the student made a sexual gesture and kept running.

Killian is in jail and charged with inducing panic, public indecency, resisting arrest and disorderly conduct. A message seeking comment was left at Killian's home.

School officials reported that Killian was a good student, Gaylor said. There was no indication of substance abuse or a medical problem.

Copyright 2007 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Cristianity and Knitting: A Dangerous Combination?

This just in: A group of Greek nuns have apparently gone over to the Dark Side due to knitting-related naughtiness. This just goes to prove that knitting, cristianity, and being Greek all lead to shoddy moral character.

See below for the Reuters article, as copied from CNN.COM:

Nuns on the run to avoid huge debt
POSTED: 1631 GMT (0031 HKT), January 30, 2007

ATHENS, Greece (Reuters) -- A group of Greek nuns abandoned their convent and went into hiding after running up debts of more than 600,000 euros ($777,000) from a knitting business that went bust, authorities said on Tuesday.

The 55 sisters of the Saints Kirikos and Ioulitis monastery in the town of Sidirokastro near the border with Bulgaria, had purchased machinery worth 250,000 euros with bank loans some years ago, police officials said.

But despite supplying several shops, they were running deeper and deeper into debt and risking bankruptcy.

"We have not been asked to intervene yet but we are following the case closely," a police official said.

The nuns are believed to have taken refuge at another monastery in central Greece and the Greek press has reported that the Church of Greece has offered to help them pay their debts and come out of hiding.

The church's representative was not available for comment.

Copyright 2007 Reuters. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Rugby Love

Yesterday I made it to my first Rugby practice of the season. Given my off-season training regimen of eating, drinking, and sitting, I felt pretty well prepared for a 2-hour rugby practice. Turns out I wasn't too far off, especially as I was a bit late and everyone else was tired by the time I got there, minimizing the effects of my non-in-shape-ness. So I stayed in the mix pretty well, got battered around and stepped on like a good prop should, and wound up having to wrap my wrist at work that night.

Today, I've been popping ibuprofen like M&M's, I'm stiff, sore, bruised, and painfully aware of the fact that I'm the oldest guy on the team. It's a very feel-alive sort of ache, though. Food tastes better (I've been starving all day), moving feels good ('cos it loosens up the joints so they don't hurt anymore), and I don't feel bad about drinking beer (gotta rehydrate, right?).

Yep, I'm definitely feeling the Rugby Love.

Movie Review

It occurs to me that I've been paying a lot of attention to professional sports lately. Theories on the cause of this phenomenon will be expounded over adult beverages at a later time.

For now, in an attempt to return to my roots, I'm going to yammer about a movie.

"Snakes on a Plane" was a triumph of advertising. And I do mean advertising, not marketing, not PR. I went to the video store, gave them $3.75 plus tax, and they gave me EXACTLY what they said they would. Ninety-odd minutes of assorted violence, some gruesome scenes, a rather hot naked chick (well, she was hot until she died--oops, I guess that might be a spoiler), guns, shooting, baseball bats, snakes the size of baseball bats, snakes smaller than baseball bats, snakes larger than baseball bats, Sam Jackson as the gritty, experienced FBI agent with a softer side (for about 30 seconds), some fairly unbelievable technical and scientific details, and a plot that had apparently been genetically designed by Nazi expatriate scientists working in a lab in Brazil to be not one smidgen more involved than it absolutely had to be.

This movie was, in fact, awesome (for a given value of awesome). Ted sez check it out.

***WARNING WARNING WARNING***
DO NOT REPEAT NOT ATTEMPT TO WATCH THIS FILM WHILE SOBER. Trust me.

Maybe I'll watch the Superbowl after all...

When I went to bed Sunday night, the Saints had once again disappointed the city, (comments about "they've come this far, they're already winners" notwithtanding), the Colts had just received a first-quarter buttwhipping from the Patriots (perennial finalists in the "lamest pro football team ever" contest, and I was plumbing depths of sports-related disgust I didn't know I still posessed. Hell, I didn't even bother to check the final score on the Colts' game until today.

That was a pleasant surprise.

Now, I usually don't much like Indy. They have lots of strikes against them: used to be from Baltimore and left, leaving Maryland stuck with the Ravens; not the Redskins, for whom I grew up rooting; and it's just wrong for a Manning to play for anyone but New Orleans.

But I'll be happy to watch Chicago get their Bear butts kicked.

Domestic Tranquility

The Wife (who, it would seem, is NOT to be referred to as "the old lady") is sick. She has acquired the Creeping Crud which seems to be going around (obscure medical fact: there's ALWAYS a Creeping Crud, Bug, or other infection going around). I put her to bed with copious clear fluids, ibuprofen, and a stuffed animal. Then I made her Turkey Pot Pie (or as I like to call it, "The Breakfast Club Special").

Unfortunately, I've never been very good at proportions. Fortunately, we have all these nice new casserole dishes from the wedding. And now they're full of Turkey Pot Pie with Biscuit Topping that You Can Make for Your Girlfriend (as modified from _The Bachelor's Cookbook_, Page 17). Anybody interested in leftovers?

On a related note, in order to get my blood testosterone levels back into the therapeutic range, tonight I'm going to dose The Wife with NyQuil, go shoot something and then hit the strip bars. Who's in?

Work sucks

Saturday rolled around, and I was all set to take it easy, maybe read a little, maybe sit in the hot tub, and work calls. Well, one of my bosses, really. More importantly, the woman I WANT to work for after I finish residency. She says, "I need a favor...can you meet me at 4:30?". Ah, crap.

So I rush all day to get my errands run, get dressed up in my doctoring clothes, head downtown to meet her, fight through the crowds around the Superdome, get my security pass, walk through about six dozen checkpoints...

And onto the field.

That's right, I spent Saturday evening watching the Saints shoot down the Eagles from the field. On-side medical director for the EMS team on standby in case a player got hurt. Oh, and we were stationed right behind the cheerleaders (who are short enough to see over). I also got to meet the governor (who is also short enought to see over, I mean the woman's practically a midget).

Moreover, the game was great. A real nail-biter. Anyone familiar with the Saints' record will understand how worked up the crowd was in the sold-out Dome. I tried to get some audio recordings on my phone, but it just doesn't do justice. Getting to see the Saints win a playoff game was cool, watching them beat the team that knocked the Gnats out of the playoffs was even better (hi, John. How ya doin'?). The fact that I got paid to do it was icing on the cake.

Yep, work sucks.

The internet is working again...

I haven't been ignoring y'all, my online connection has been down. It's finally repaired (maybe). At least I got a free month of service out of the deal. Of course, I've gotten no service for half that month...