Order and chaos

Whilst utilising the ablutionary facilities at our local hospital following a satisfying poo, I couldn't help but notice a noticeable notice informing me that something was Out Of Order.

Having re-read that sentence, two things have just occurred to me. The first is that the provision of such information could be classified as a bit on the "too much" side, and the second is the possibility that I might have given the impression I have to go to hospital to have a poo.

Let me put your feverish minds at rest, because I don't have to. In fact, the finest pooologist in the hospital* has told me, repeatedly, that I don't need to go there any more, and that maybe I shouldn't have been all these years anyway, and furthermore my argument incorporating the outrageous expense of paper and the dearth of dock leaves in my garden isn't considered a medical emergency by even the most eminent gastrointestinal specialists, apparently.

There. Now if, as in modern kid parlance, that is considered "TMI" then so is informing everyone of the most mundane detail of my life, like how I like to slam my willy in the fridge door whilst balancing a frying pan full of eggs on my head.

And that's just a domestic chore essentially.

Ooh, a digression. Did you see that? Just there. Yeah, I know.

Now where was I?

Oh yes, the Out of Order sign. Well, it wasn't the notice itself that prickled my curiosity, but it's location:

It was just taped to the wall.

I prodded the wall, but it seemed to be working. I looked above and below the sign, but there was naught to be seen but a cockroach, and that also seemed to be functioning normally.

Maybe the whole room was Out of Order. If so, a janitor was going to have a nasty surprise in the morning after my visit.

Perhaps it was out of numerical order.

1,2,3,4,toilet,9,10.

Maybe it was angry, that sort of out of order.

"Poo in me would ya! Why I oughta . . ."

Maybe it was misspelled and should have read Out Of Ordure, or possibly Out of Odour?

Well, I certainly fixed either of them possibilities.

Fixed 'em good.

Then it occurred to me that, perhaps, the Out Of Order notice was for a window, which was so out of order it had completely disappeared. You don't get less workable as a window than a solid wall.

That totally makes sense BTW.

After the usual hour or so of contemplation you get sitting on the lav, it occurred to me that the wall was, in fact, simply a storage facility for the Out Of Order sign, rather than out of order itself.

This is quite interesting because it makes one consider the difficulties in placing an unrequired Out of Order sign in an appropriate place, without it causing that place to then be rendered unused.

To conclude, I really shouldn't post after three quarters of a bottle of Vin de Pays d'Oc and an empty stomach.



*Dirty Rosita, in Laundry Services.

Healthy beating

When one is contemplating health issues, the first thing I like to be aware of is my pituitary gland:

Well, not the first thing, obviously.

Like everyone else, the first thing is my adrenal cortex. One should take care of that.

"How ya doin' there little buddy? Kidneys treating you all right? Giving you some support? Good. Very good. Let me know if they give you any gyp, and I'll have a word. They sometimes like to take the piss. Keep up the exciting work."

The above poster, strangely in the toilet at work, is from The Pituitary Foundation, which aims to increase awareness of the functions of the pituitary gland and raise money for people suffering from pituitary disorders.

They've not really chosen the easiest of charities to publicise. With medical issues, like telly and politics, people have limited attention spans and only like or understand a single issue at a time.

Pretty easy if you're going for one of the biggies, like STROKE! Or even something that is wide ranging but can be summed up in one emotive word. Like CANCER! Or a more popular choice, such as HEART ATTACK! All of these benefit from being (relatively) simple to comprehend, and the fact that Uncle Bob's funny turn happened to be one of them, or all of them.

Poor dizzy, lumpy, clutchy Uncle Bob.

The pituitary gland just does too much . . . stuff.

Feeling hungry That'll be the pituitary gland. Horny? Pituitary gland. Angry? A certain P. Gland. Sad? Have a guess. Begins with P. Ends in Ituitary gland. Too tall? Too fat? Diabetic? Blood pressure problems? Too Hot? Too cold? Not lactating when you should be? Lactating when you shouldn't be? And so on and so forth.

Gregory House MD (a fictional medical reincarnation of Sherlock Holmes portrayed by Bertie Wooster off of on the telly) would probably solve most of his cases a bit quicker if he just growled "Pit-oo-it-erry glend" at his underlings, cos it's probably going to have something to do with their problem. Then they could do all the tests and doctoring and what-not in order to find a cure while he does something spectacularly mean to the patient which turns out to be for the patient's own good because, although he's grumpy, deep down he's on the cusp of regaining his faith in human nature, and it's only been five or six series so, you know, early days.

I like House.

It's not Pituitary's fault though. I mean, no self respecting gland would take on all that responsibility when it could just kick back and chillax as a minor endocrine gland, occasionally churning out a hormone when it feels like it, or maybe as a passive sort of tissue which fulfils it's role just by being there. Like hair.

Man, hair has it easy.

But no, the pituitary gland has been around for such a long time, evolutionarily speaking, that it's just got more and more important in controlling so many basic functions of the body. That's the problem with doing your best in any job. If you show you're good at sweeping up, some bugger will come along and give you a bigger broom. Or put you in charge of hydroregulation in the human body.

It's an argument for doing you averagest in any given position.

The only upside is the cool epithet it has earned itself. "The Master Gland". How awesome is that?

That really, was the gist of this quick post. I like to impart some wisdom in my day to day dealings with the world, and today's lesson is; "Never Do Your Best"

Otherwise, you might end up looking like a complete master gland.