WARNING: The language contained in this blog entry is not suitable for polite conversation or children under 18 or adults over 18. In fact, if you have respect for the author and want to retain said esteem, it’s best that you stop reading this now and maybe consult her tale of TOE WOE or perhaps her ode to dubs. Just skip this entry if you don’t like profanity. The F-Bomb is dropped like a rain of terror no fewer than 12 times in the following entry. Don’t complain that you weren’t warned. Because what you’re about to see is ugly… real ugly.

Continue reading All About Opposable Thumbs… Or Why the F-Word is an Appropriate Expression of Pain →

Good news: The morning after having my plumbing roto-rooted under general anesthesia, I feel better than I did the morning after I had my toenails removed with Novocain and a pair of pliers.
Of course, I’m also on better pain meds. Hooray!
Yesterday afternoon – LATE YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, as in 22 hours, 30 minutes after I last tasted food and 9 hours after I last drank anything, including water – I underwent a hysteroscopy and D&C to remove a benign polyp from my uterus.
As with any of my recent outings (See Grand Canyon & Toenails entries), this too was an adventure! Keep reading for the blow-by-blow recap – but only if you haven’t recently eaten.

Continue reading Stacy Survives Non-Toe-Related Surgery! →

You know by now that I have no big-toe nails. Removed they were, by the venerable Dr. Brett Roeder, Team Limoncello official podiatrist and husband of my good friend Yvette. As I said to him after he deposited said toenails into a urine specimen jar, “I like your wife better than you.”
Well, now you get to read the rest of the story… or How I came to learn that my toenails should be removed.
If you are at all squeamish about your toenails or fingernails, then you should probably stop reading HERE. If you are considering writing a letter to your Congressman or Senator in support of John McCain’s anti-torture bill and you need amunition: MAKE SURE YOU ATE AN HOUR AGO AND PROCEED.

Continue reading The Rest of the Toes Story… Or How I Learned They Needed to Go →