Saturday, January 14, 2012

Talkin' Snitch and Riding Switch

Someone somewhere on the internet recently posed this question: if someone lies to med school admissions committees about their experiences and then gets an acceptance to med school, do you have a moral responsibility to snitch on them?

Answer = No. Snitching is wrong, and you should mind your own beeswax, and karma will sort them out. Who are you to say what is right and wrong? Maybe fate wanted that person to get in, and didn't mind them bending the truth.


Answer = Yes. This is med school we are talking about. That person will have someone's life in their hands someday. If have no integrity, is that even safe for patients?


Final answer = I guess so, yes. If you know for sure that someone lied or cheated their way in to med school, you should probably say something. Karma may be a bitch, but in my experience, a lazy bitch. I mean, if someone lied or cheated their way in to law school, they should probably get a medal, and will probably graduate at the top of their class lol. But when a doctor takes shortcuts, people die...

In unrelated news, I went ridin' today! As in, snowboarding. The slopes around Metalton finally opened up. I got my board out, waxed that ass, and ripped it up! It was so sweet. The only thing is that I forgot my goggles at home, so I ended up with frikkin ice burn all up on my face. Ouch. But awesome.

Next time, I must get a baclava for my face... Also, Heavy Metal Vixen. Badass snowboarding chica.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Free money: clothed people need not apply.

So you may or may not know that medical school costs more than a black market human liver. For the cost of your med school education, you could buy a Mclaren F1. You could buy 300 televisions, all of them 60" flat-screen LCD's, and cover every wall of your house with high-def sweetness. You could buy 100 purebred Arabian racehorses, and then hire 100 nuns to race them in the Kentucky Derby. In green-man costumes.

For the cost of a med school education, I could resurrect Kim Jong Il, buy him a Batman costume, and hire him to fight crime in Gotham.

So on my last day off before I go back to work tomorrow, I thought it would be smart to start looking for scholarships. I thought I might find some that are specific-ish to me. You know, scholarship for people of Germanic descent. Scholarships for people with research background.

Well, here is what I found instead:

1) Scholarship for Excellence in Predicting the Future

This is an actual scholarship. It is for people who are able to predict the economic trends in the stock market and stuff like that. You know what? If they can predict the stock market, why the fuck do they need a scholarship!?

2) Sophie Major Memorial Duck Calling Scholarship

This is an actual scholarship. For people who can call ducks with one of those duck whistles. That's right. If you can make ducks appear by blowing on a whistle, they'll give you money. Now, I don't mean to belittle the memory of Sophie Major, but was she so passionate about duck calling that she thought it warranted a scholarship? Apparently I am from the wrong part of America to understand this. Fair enough... but get this:

3) American Nudist Research Library Scholarship

This is an actual scholarship. If you do significant research in to nudity, you can get money. Really nudists? Really? Research this, nudists: why do you all gots to show us your shameful, shameful bodies? Any why is there no such thing as a hot nudist?

4) National Marbles Tournament Scholarship

Money for playing with my balls? I'm in.

5) Frederick and Mary F. Beckley Scholarship

For lefties. You know what? That's racist, sir.

Anyways, that's all. Also, I just have to throw this family portrait in the mix:

Also, I have been listening to a lot of Gojira. Awesome metal band out of France. Plus, if you ever get the urge to listen to literally 4 minutes and 20 seconds of people screaming bloody murder, listen to the track 1990 Quatrillions De Tonnes. Seriously, lol.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

And now that I have finally gotten in to med school, after months and years of waiting for test scores and secondary applications and interview invites and final decisions and letters in the mail, what am I doing?

Waiting for med school to start, haha!

I have about 7 months to kill, so I figured I should be proactive and use those 7 months for good, or perhaps for evil, but either way I ought to use them. I suppose there are many good and useful things you could do in 7 months:

1) Write a book. It could be the next great American novel. Or perhaps a biography of Ronnie James Dio. I'm pretty sure you could write a full-length book in 7 months.

2) Get pumped like Arnold Schwartzenegger. I bet if you worked out constantly, you could basically get into Mr. Universe shape...

3) Learn to shred. I mean really burn on the electric guitar. Right now, I am like lightning on the old fretboard. My fingers are a blur. But if I practiced hard for 7 months, I could be faster than greased lightning, and my fingers would be invisible.

4) Train my cat Bobbins Chookums Magellan Mouse-Destroyer 3000 to be a circus cat. He will dive through flaming hoops of death in to an 8 ounce cup of water. Or, more likely knowing my cat, he will stare intently at the flaming hoops of death for a few seconds, and then become distracted and/or fall asleep.

5) Train myself for the World Beer-Chugging Championships. True story: the guitar player in my band in college was a national beer-chugging champion. In Ireland, bitch. I didn't believe him at first, so I challenged him. We both poured a pint in to glasses, and on the count of 3, started drinking. 2 seconds later, I had drunk about 1/5 of my pint, and he had finished his. It was a thing of beauty. I've never seen anything like it. He has somehow figured out a way to just open his throat so he can literally pour it in to his stomach. Is that physiologically possible? I don't know. Yes, I guess...

Anyways, yeah. Right now, I just feel like I am killing time at my job at the Filthy Gunslinger. My work is alternately tolerable and mind-suckingly boring. [sigh...] I'll let you know when I select my big project.