Colonoscopy friends | Presidential mustache winner | Hollywood search & rescue
Hello, situation normies!
Later this year, I’ll get my first colonoscopy. I plan to write about it because 1) sharing funny stories from my life is the Situation Normal brand, 2) butt stuff is hilarious, and 3) I’ve always considered myself the Katie Couric of comedy.
But I’m getting ahead of myself! My colonoscopy hasn’t even been scheduled yet (looking at you, Kaiser Permanente). So consider this slice of my friend’s life as a public service announcement.
Last week, Christina and I drove one of our friends to the Los Angeles County USC Medical Center to get his colonoscopy. We got up at the crack of dawn because, apparently, the medical profession has a thing about doing procedures before normal people wake up, and I have a very juvenile thing about making puns with the word “crack” when we’re talking about butt stuff. I’ve been told to “grow up,” but as far as I know, nobody has told the medical community to shift to bankers hours.
Anyway, traffic was light, so we got to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Our friend checked in with the nurse, who gave him a bracelet with a barcode, so that Christina and I could track his progress—just like an Amazon package!
Christina tracked the “package,” while I tried to kill time by eavesdropping on the other people in the waiting room. But the eavesdropping was difficult because HIPAA privacy rules ain’t nothing to fuck with. Also, it was really hard to hear in the waiting room because there was a woman blasting TikTok videos on her phone at full volume, without headphones.
“Do you believe this woman?” I asked Christina. “Society is doomed.”
Christina told me to go get a coffee. That sounded good, but the signage in the hospital was terrible, so I spent the next thirty minutes looking for the coffee cart.
At one point, I made a wrong turn and ended up scrubbing in on a very tricky procedure to remove a man’s foot from his mouth. The procedure went well, but the patient was out of network, so that poor bastard is going to end up paying for my boat.
At the coffee stand, I had an almond milk latte and chatted with the other doctors about our boats and the poor out of network bastards who make those boats possible. I was feeling good, not just because I was caffeinated but because I was with my peers. Also, I look fantastic in scrubs. Just saying.
I was about to tell the other doctors that we really ought to shift to bankers hours, when my phone buzzed. It was Christina. Our “package” was ready!
“He’s done,” Christina said. “Go get the car.”
“But I was going to scrub in on another procedure. These boat payments aren’t gonna make themselves.”
Christina wasn’t amused, which is why her boat privileges are in jeopardy. But we gathered our things, picked up our friend who was high as fuck on Propofol, and drove him home.
A few days later, when our friend wasn’t high as fuck, I asked him if I could write about this for Situation Normal. As I mentioned before, HIPAA privacy rules ain’t nothing to fuck with, so permission is a must.
Our friend gave his permission to write about this episode because it’s important to raise awareness about the need to get a colonoscopy. So consider this your reminder to get a colonoscopy. It’s easy, the drugs are good, and screening for colon cancer is a great way to avoid dying of colon cancer.
That said, this story isn’t just a public service announcement. It’s also an opportunity for me to tell you about a little-known benefit of becoming a paid subscriber to Situation Normal at the founder level.
You see, our friend is one of three Situation Normal paid subscribers who plunked down $150 to join the founder level. I don’t personally know the other two founding subscribers, but that doesn’t matter. Everyone who subscribes to the founding level of Situation Normal gets the same benefits, and those benefits now include a ride to any medical procedure in Los Angeles County.
Speaking of paid subscribers, I want to acknowledge Nicole, Susy, and my mom, Linda, for supporting this silliness with cold, hard cash. Your support means a lot to me, thank you! If you want to join these awesome people, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription👇
Hollywood search & rescue
I don’t like making fun of tragedies. It’s mean spirited. Also, I fear the day that tragedy comes for me (it comes for everyone), and someone laughs at my misfortune. What goes around comes around, as they say.
But I’m not above making fun of local news coverage of a tragedy. In this case, the tragedy is a missing hiker who was last seen climbing Mount Baldy, which is actually Mount San Antonio, because here in Los Angeles, the top geographic features all use stage names.
Anyway, a hiker went missing on Mount Baldy, but this hiker was an actor, which is the only profession that matters in Los Angeles, according to the local news.
As of this writing, the hiker is still missing. I hope he’s OK. I also hope that he’s able to sell the life rights to his ordeal, attach himself as a producer, and play himself in the movie, unless they can get George Clooney, The Rock, or a Steve McQueen hologram.
Presidential mustache winner
Last Wednesday, I asked you which former President wears the fake mustache best?
Because I wanted to be scientific, and because this shit is political, I thought a poll would be a good idea. Unfortunately, only about 3 percent of Situation Normal readers voted in the poll. That kind of turnout is bad for democracy, but the demise of democracy is good for comedy, at least in the short-run, so maybe this was a win?
What I do know is that Obama won, but his mustachioed victory wasn’t without controversy.
“Your readers are clearly voting for their favorite President, rather than which President looks good in a mustache,” Anne Kadet wrote in the comments.
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but it felt true, and when something feels true, seasoned political reporters are obligated to share their takes, even if they don’t have any facts or data to back up their dubious claims.
According to Anne, George W. Bush won the fake mustache contest “by a mile.” I tend to agree with Anne. Dubya wears it well, probably because the fake mustache is the same style worn by cartoonish villains, and Dubya has a lot of experience playing those kinds of roles in such classics as Mission Accomplished, Smoke ‘Em Out, the sequel, Smoke ‘Em Out 2: Still Smoking in Mesopotamia, and Heck of Job, Brownie.
But here’s the thing. America democracy is more complicated than surgically removing a foot from the patient’s mouth. The person with the most votes isn’t necessarily the winner. So despite earning the most votes, Obama lost in the Mustache Electoral College, which meets every four years to twirl its villainous mustache at the plebeians who think they have the power to pick their facial hair leaders.
Unfortunately for Anne and me, George W. Bush lost too. His fake mustache was glorious, but that opinion was only held by the media elite, who sang his praises and mocked anyone who backed a different candidate. Anne and I probably have some soul searching to do after this thumping, but instead I think we’re going to write a lot of think pieces about how everyone else is wrong and we’re right. Subscriptions to both of our publications are expected to skyrocket!
So, who won this fake mustache vote?
Well, it wasn’t the George H.W. Bush, who had the second most votes. It wasn’t Bill Clinton, who triangulated himself into a fourth place finish. And it certainly wasn’t Donald Trump, who clearly lost.
Nope, the winner was Joe Biden. True, Joe Biden is too damn old to be fucking around in the fake mustache sweepstakes, and he wasn’t technically on the ballot because everyone agreed ahead of time that he shouldn’t even think about wearing a fake mustache. But none of that matters. The winner is Joe Biden and the mustache nobody wanted.
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I love messing with telemarketers. I come by this passion honestly; my father messed with telemarketers. Dad came by his passion honestly, too; his father messed with telemarketers. Grandpa probably came by his passion dishonestly since phones weren’t really a thing for most of his father’s life. Anyway, here’s my most recent telemarketer story. Enjoy!
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Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I have questions. You have answers.
Any colonoscopy advice for me?
What’s the deal with people who blast the audio on their phones at full volume in public? Are they unaware that headphones exist? Are they harbingers of society’s demise? Or, are they just assholes?
If you went missing on a hike, but then you were found, and you sold the life rights to your story, who would play you, assuming George Clooney, The Rock, and a Steve McQueen hologram are unavailable?
Were you disappointed in the outcome of the Presidential mustache poll?
Are you considering legal action against Situation Normal in the wake of Mustache-Gate 2023?
Okay, so my husband currently has colon cancer (caught early and treatable thanks to a routine colonoscopy - go get one right now!) and I've been BEGGING HIM to let me refer to it as butt cancer on my Substack. So far he resists, but I *will* get my way. 💪
“What’s the deal with people who blast the audio on their phones at full volume in public? Are they unaware that headphones exist? Are they harbingers of society’s demise? Or, are they just assholes?”
The answer is D: They are unaware other people exist.