Even nice girls have anaerobes in their sputum.


As kids, we used to run around the house with dad's pulse oximeter stuck on a finger to see how fast our hearts would go. Quit playing games with my heart (rate) would be what you'd call that. Love, right now, is reserved only for my neighbour and his free wi-fi that gets me download speeds of over fivefriggin'hundred kaybees per second. And the three-way-stop-cock-like-thingy the good doctor uses to drain pericardial fluid in that Downton Abbey episode. And the stupid person who thought I deserved a 44 out of 50 in the surgery test. At least I didn't drudge my Bailey & Love around all day for nothing.

6 comments:

Ess.See. said...

Lol. I can relate to the oximeter part, we didn't really play 'quit playing games with my heart(rate), but it was a good past time :P

The Me. said...

I used to talk in my mom's BP apparatus's diaphragm. That was cool.
Also, your blog's theme makes me crave red velvet cupcakes.

SaJ said...

Oh, don't mind me. I can haz that effect on people. :)

F. said...

Your neighbor, does his wi-fi have a brother? :v


And I am jalous of your excellent taste in blog themes.

SaJ said...

Haha, I get lucky a lot, you know.
Also, you have no idea how far I went for this little ":v".
Couldn't find it anywhere but notice how Homer Simpson has his own emoticon.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_emoticons

F. said...

Funny, the things we can get as leftovers from an ill-fated romance. Someone I used to know had this 'signature' emoticon, presumably symbolic of a drooling or otherwise gaping ('gimme') mouth. Banda tou haath se gaya, badlay main emoticon de gaya. :P