Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Back at work

So I just finished my 3rd year of medical school, and then I decided to come to Iowa to take a year off for this research fellowship. (I guess it felt like a good idea at the time.) But no, seriously, I think it'll be a year of discovery. I've already discovered King of the Hill reruns on Fox in the afternoons, hyuk hyuk. (3rd year was superbusy, but any of the rare times there was a vacation -- ie, the day before a shelf exam, some holiday my school actually celebrated, etc. instead of going to the library like a dutiful student and studying for my upcoming exam, I would spend it sleeping or camped out on the couch. Later in the evening I would proceed to have a full-fledged panic attack along the lines of "Where did my whole day go?! What is wrong with me?! It's 11:30pm and I haven't even left my apartment yet! The shelf is in THREE DAYS and I haven't started PreTest!!" and so forth. You'd think that now that I have more free time I'd spend more time pursuing all those interests I would wistfully discuss with my friends about doing if only I had free time. Well now I have tons of free time but that ass groove in the couch is so damn inviting.)

Anyway, I wanted to discuss my dog a little more. His previous owners had apparently gotten him as a puppy and named him "Luscious." Quite an appropriate name, had he grown up to become a buxom female stripper. (Everytime I hear that name I envision a morbidly obese woman in a muumuu lounging in a hammock bellowing "LUSCIOUS! Bring mama them Flamin' Hot Fritos." Much like Lisa Simpson in the episode where she envisions being married to Ralph Wiggum. "You kids shut up! Mama's watchin' her stories.")

Needless to say, Lisa and Ralph were terrible petowners to poor little Luscious. Apparently they would tie him under the table for hours on end and didn't feed him right. He weighed 8lb when I got him. Very sad. Anyway, most of his teeth fell out, except for one little one on the bottom in front (which I affectionately call Ol' Chomper). All of his back teeth are rotting, and let me tell you, Homeboy got some funky breath. FUNKY. When he opens his mouth it smells like a garbage can filled with rancid meat rotting bananas and bacterial vaginosis. He also has bad heartburn and will occasionally vomit out of the blue. Charming.

So anyway I spent a good part of my day at home yesterday (between "catching up on journal articles" and "working on my presentation") coming up with various nicknames for my dog. Here's what I've got so far:
1. Ole Smeller
2. Reflux McSmelly
3. Stinky McDeaferson

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