I was that superhero at work. I was lucky to work M-F during the non holiday season. It took me all of Monday and half of Tuesday to clean up from the weekend. There were more re shop carts in the back, than in the lobby. Then it would start all over again. What we do for the 10 percent employee discount. Stay safe and warm.
Years ago, I had to have regular blood draws to makes sure a medication I was on wasn't destroying my liver. I would arrive at the lab at eight in the morning and the doctor would see me two-three hours later. My appointments with Dr. Memory Lapse, as I called him, went like this. He would not find the results of my blood draw in the chart, so he would call the lab. They told him that those results wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, because those screenings were done by the night shift. Then he said I will have to come back next week. In the meantime, was the medication helping? Not really, I said. That's great, the doctor replied. See you in a week. After the third time this happened, I did something that the kids today call "self advocating," but in the old school days of my youth was called "being sick and tired of this effing bullsh*t." I suggested that my blood be drawn the day before I saw the doctor. He agreed, but I wondered if retaliatory proctology exams were a thing that doctors order when a patient hurts their feelings. (I had just seen the Lethal Weapon film in which Joe Pesci was shot and Mel Gibson added a proctology exam to his chart. Maybe revenge proctology only works if you are Mel Gibson.) When the medication was first prescribed, the doctor told me it would make me to drowsy to drive or operate machinery. I told him, I guess commuting to my job at the cabinet shop is out. Oh, you work in a cabinet shop! What do you do there? Operate machinery. Operate machinery, you fudging idiot. After nearly cutting my thumb off on a chop saw, I stopped taking those pills and never saw that doctor again. My liver emerged mostly unscathed.
I literally laughed out loud reading this. I have to use the word literally, because some people use lol in place of a period to end a sentence.
I think you’ve perfectly described going to the doctor. Dr. Memory Lapse (great name) helps us all. I’m glad you have all of your fingers and a functioning liver.
When I worked at Borders Books, we called our remaindered books clerk "Remainer Man!" (The exclamation point definitely goes with the name.) Mike really was a superhero. Took the title with a great sense of humor and wore the superhero costume he created on Halloween.
Ogre Mobile would be more like it. I welcome their attack much as I welcome the entreaties of the street evangelists, but with much less respect for their motivation.
See how wise and adult you are? I stopped enjoying liver after Silence of the Lambs.
My mom made liver about once a month. My dad loved it as he’d grown up eating it. Mom made it with bacon and onions. I’d smell those cooking at dinner time and be so excited, only to find that liver was involved as well. It was tolerable with the addition of bacon and onions but the texture was what really hit me.
The liver comic brings back memories, but not good ones. Liver was bad enough, but did they really have to add onions? It makes sense that people in retail are nice to law-enforcement, because they can empathize with each other. They both have to deal with the public, which no one should have to do. Not even robots.
We used to put chicken livers in a baking dish, pour half a bottle of barbecue sauce over it, bake. I loved it until I found out that eating organ meats is bad for you. One more thing I love that’ll kill me.
My mother loved liver! It was one of the few things she could cook well; tender, not shoe leather. I hated it, but ate it because I liked going to bed not feeling hungry. Then she learned that liver is chock full of cholesterol, and that her aunt who died of a heart attack in her 50s ate liver at least twice a week. She rarely made it after that. I was good with this turn of events!
I like liver, especially chopped chicken liver on a bagel. Regretfully, I can eat it only once or twice a year because it would aggravate my gout.
Three cheers for Tabnam!
I was that superhero at work. I was lucky to work M-F during the non holiday season. It took me all of Monday and half of Tuesday to clean up from the weekend. There were more re shop carts in the back, than in the lobby. Then it would start all over again. What we do for the 10 percent employee discount. Stay safe and warm.
Just an idea. Highland coos.
I love these comics. You are my Tabman of the world. You remind me that while the world seems to be sane it’s really just weird.
Thank you so much. Very weird, indeed.
I get very little liver in my life!
Years ago, I had to have regular blood draws to makes sure a medication I was on wasn't destroying my liver. I would arrive at the lab at eight in the morning and the doctor would see me two-three hours later. My appointments with Dr. Memory Lapse, as I called him, went like this. He would not find the results of my blood draw in the chart, so he would call the lab. They told him that those results wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, because those screenings were done by the night shift. Then he said I will have to come back next week. In the meantime, was the medication helping? Not really, I said. That's great, the doctor replied. See you in a week. After the third time this happened, I did something that the kids today call "self advocating," but in the old school days of my youth was called "being sick and tired of this effing bullsh*t." I suggested that my blood be drawn the day before I saw the doctor. He agreed, but I wondered if retaliatory proctology exams were a thing that doctors order when a patient hurts their feelings. (I had just seen the Lethal Weapon film in which Joe Pesci was shot and Mel Gibson added a proctology exam to his chart. Maybe revenge proctology only works if you are Mel Gibson.) When the medication was first prescribed, the doctor told me it would make me to drowsy to drive or operate machinery. I told him, I guess commuting to my job at the cabinet shop is out. Oh, you work in a cabinet shop! What do you do there? Operate machinery. Operate machinery, you fudging idiot. After nearly cutting my thumb off on a chop saw, I stopped taking those pills and never saw that doctor again. My liver emerged mostly unscathed.
I literally laughed out loud reading this. I have to use the word literally, because some people use lol in place of a period to end a sentence.
I think you’ve perfectly described going to the doctor. Dr. Memory Lapse (great name) helps us all. I’m glad you have all of your fingers and a functioning liver.
What I actually meant was, it's tolerable mixed with other things.
When I worked at Borders Books, we called our remaindered books clerk "Remainer Man!" (The exclamation point definitely goes with the name.) Mike really was a superhero. Took the title with a great sense of humor and wore the superhero costume he created on Halloween.
He didn’t ask to be a hero. It was thrust upon him. That’s awesome.
Ogre Mobile would be more like it. I welcome their attack much as I welcome the entreaties of the street evangelists, but with much less respect for their motivation.
See how wise and adult you are? I stopped enjoying liver after Silence of the Lambs.
That was a great movie line.
My mom made liver about once a month. My dad loved it as he’d grown up eating it. Mom made it with bacon and onions. I’d smell those cooking at dinner time and be so excited, only to find that liver was involved as well. It was tolerable with the addition of bacon and onions but the texture was what really hit me.
Hoodwinked by the smell! It’s an old trick.
The liver comic brings back memories, but not good ones. Liver was bad enough, but did they really have to add onions? It makes sense that people in retail are nice to law-enforcement, because they can empathize with each other. They both have to deal with the public, which no one should have to do. Not even robots.
We used to put chicken livers in a baking dish, pour half a bottle of barbecue sauce over it, bake. I loved it until I found out that eating organ meats is bad for you. One more thing I love that’ll kill me.
My mother loved liver! It was one of the few things she could cook well; tender, not shoe leather. I hated it, but ate it because I liked going to bed not feeling hungry. Then she learned that liver is chock full of cholesterol, and that her aunt who died of a heart attack in her 50s ate liver at least twice a week. She rarely made it after that. I was good with this turn of events!
With a thick coating of garlic salt I could choke down liver as a kid. It's been 50 years since I've ate it.
I love Tabnam! Seriously love!
Love Tabnam!