100 Things About Me #184

I Don't Know Squirt

Eww... I always thought "incontinent" was not being in a boat.





100 Things: #1 | Previous | Next

Big Weekend

Big weekend, rejoicing I didn't die on the operating table during cataract surgery, because, when the nurse asked what pills I had taken, I chose not to mention the Gas-X.

Also, I Halloweened as Ray Milland, "The Man With the X-ray Eyes."

Well, If You Think I'm Crossing the Street Before You Make Up Your Dopey Mind, You're Crazy!

Pharmacy sign: 

GET YOUR
FLU SHOT HERE
NO WAIT

Big Weekend

Big weekend, doing the carpal tunnel. 

I'm beginning to think I may need to replace my Events Coordinator.

Mikey Fall Down and Go, 'BOOM!'

I almost offed myself.

Oh, not on purpose, but by accident.

My life did not flash before my eyes.

I did see the end title, "James Bond 007 Will Return Without You."

I am very near-sighted. I could not find my glasses on the bed table, so considering the cat occasionally knocks stuff onto the floor, I slid off the mattress and searched the carpet for the peepers.

No luck. While I was on the knees, I checked the night table again. The Scandinavian furniture has a pull-down shelf which extends beyond the counter space nestled inside a small chest of drawers. When I looked through the pile of magazines and doodads accumulated at the rear, I propped my arms on the outer shelf in order to lean in for a closer view.

Mistake. The shelf collapsed from the weight, literally breaking apart from the mounts and falling to the floor. Subsequently, I descended like a brick. The underside of my nose hit the edge of the solid wood table with great impact. Pain and a flood of blood arrived immediately.

My first thought was of my wife because I love her and I feared I was in deep trouble without her assistance.

My second concern was, having never bled with such profusion, I could soon pass out and expire.

#3: I have nine unseen episodes of "Monk" on the TiVo. Me dead = grim.

Being home alone, I figured the best emergency move was to try to stop the bleeding. With both hands cupped beneath my smeller gusher, I raced upstairs to the bathroom sink and quickly tidied the mangled mug in the mirror and packed toilet paper into my in-and-ex hale holes.

I sat in a chair with my face tilted back. I brushed the kitty aside. Dangling nostril Cottonelle is not a cat toy.

The bleeding ceased swiftly and I lived, in case you haven't noticed I'm typing this report.

Other than general soreness and a swollen proboscis, I am fine, although my ego has suffered damage. No matter how many times I've shared this sober tale, I recognize everyone wrongly assumes I was drunk.

Going forward, I'll claim bees stung me for swiping honey.

Bedrockcare

I'm told Flintstones Vitamins are excellent dietary supplements for grown-ups. I was eager to consume Vitamin Fred, Vitamin Wilma, Vitamin Barney, Vitamin Betty, Vitamin Pebbles, and Vitamin Bamm-Bamm, but stopped cold when I discovered one of the ingredients is gelatin, derived from animals. I'm a vegetarian, so no can do.

And downing Dino?

Nuh uh. Nope. I won't eat pets.

Plus, I don't swallow anything alien, so go Gazoo yourself.

Nevertheless, I'd cave, man, if I could get me some Ann-Margrock.


"The Flintstones" with Ann-Margrock ("Ain't Gonna Be Your Fool No More") via YouTube

More on Flintstones Vitamins: "How My Thanksgiving Day Was Ruined Beyond Despair"

State of the Mike

I survived my yearly medical physical. The worst news came at the end of the prostate exam, as Doc removed the rubber glove and offered his diagnosis to me on my elbows.

"You're down a quart."

Then, looking at my records, he added, "Only two years to your next colonoscopy. Collect the whole series."

I remember the last colonoscopy. I stirred from my physician-induced haze to see this on the monitor:

Or so I thought, but that wasn't the case, and it failed to explain the guest appearance of Charlie Sheen.

Big Weekend

Big weekend

Big Weekend

Minoxidil Side Effects


Saturday, 9:12 a.m.


Saturday, 3:23 p.m.


Saturday, 10:24 p.m.


Sunday, 7:46 a.m.


Sunday, 5:51 p.m.


Sunday, 11:02 p.m.

Mike's Video: 'The Final Glass of Milk 2: The Inaugural Glass of Soymilk'

Eight days after swearing off cows' milk forever, I faced milk substitutes. In the grand tradition of "The Final Glass of Milk," I stomached my fear of the unknown and, for the first time ever, I drank the mysterious squeezin's of soy. A camera was on tripod -- can you believe the luck? -- to capture the historic event and epic epiglottal ecstasy. I'm milking it.

This long-awaited sequel (two entire weeks!) ends the tasteful dairy juice / strange man-made replacement beverages movie franchise, unless someone learns to knit milk.


"The Final Glass of Milk 2: The Inaugural Glass of Soymilk" via YouTube
The True Story That Started It All: "The Final Glass of Milk"

Special Features: The Original Theatrical Trailer

"Behind the Scenes: The Making of 'The Final Glass of Milk,' Chapter One" and "Chapter Two"

My First Video Webisode: 'The Final Glass of Milk'

For nutrition, I'm giving up milk forever. I'm in the period of adjustment, yet the frothy farewell has arrived and gulped. My camera was there for "The Final Glass of Milk."

Roger Ebert says, "A funny movie, flat out, all the way through. Its setup is funny. Every situation is funny. Most of the dialogue is funny almost line by line. At some point we actually find ourselves caring a little about what happened...," mentioning some other picture.


"The Final Glass of Milk" via YouTube
Special Features: The Original Theatrical Trailer | "Behind the Scenes: The Making of 'The Final Glass of Milk,' Chapter One" | "Chapter Two"

The Epic Sequel: "The Final Glass of Milk 2: The Inaugural Glass of Soymilk"

Psssst... Hush Hush Sneak Peek Video

Shhh... It's a big secret. That's why I'm posting this on the Internet to tell you.

I'm making my first video especially for nothing. I mean, for computer viewing, coming soon, maybe sooner.

I've found my return to the front of the camera to be a touch bittersweet, following the gala Twinkies Film Festival I was a part of awhile back in, yes, that HOLLYWOOD!

You all know Twinkies. Thanks for remembering.

So, although dealing with the hot lights, lazy crew, and temperamental, prima donna cast is the sacrifice I must make for my art -- and, of course, you, and, yes, that HOLLYWOOD! -- I've truly missed the buffets.

I, however, have managed to obtain a copy of the production's coming attractions prevue, yet to hit theatres and Fake IMAXes nationwide. I share it with you here -- and, no, it is not my first video for the Web, regardless of the fact the first video isn't finished.

I need dabbing.


"The Final Glass of Milk: Original Theatrical Trailer" via YouTube
Now Playing: "My First Video Webisode: The Final Glass of Milk"

Ultra Strong

Folks, dear people, dial it back a notch.

Try a pleasing broth or a tapioca. Get some Gerbers...

Mulling My Molars

Smile Though Your Wallet Is Aching

8:23 a.m. -- I'm going to a dental appointment today. I have fun. Should I leave the floss dangling?

8:24 a.m. -- I opt for drawing black spots on my teeth with a Sharpie pen.

10:12 a.m. -- I may sue my dentist. He implies I have a big mouth. It's the "MEN AT WORK" sign next to my chair.

10:13 a.m. -- My dentist likes to shout down my mouth for the echoes.

11:11 a.m. -- The dentist adjusts my bite. I can tell. I find myself a lot kinder to politicians.

$2800 later -- I have two new crowns, one gold and one porcelain, side by side. I hum "Blingy and ivory chew together in perfect harmony..."

11:20 a.m. -- I bid adieu and a drool to the doctor, saying, "Thanks for not letting me be a toothless goon."

I am a fully-teethed goon.

11:37 a.m. -- Post-dentist letdown. I always feel special when I'm touched by rubber gloves.

12:02 p.m. -- An epiphany:

I've had only two dentists in my life, father and son. I'm celebrating my 50th anniversary with the same spit sink!

I'm sentimental that way.

I'm a chick flick.

Gifts Senior Moment Santa Forgot to Bring Me: Ginormous Toothbrush

I like an extra long handle so I can reach in and neutralize tonsil tickles or polish my pancreas.

Gifts Senior Moment Santa Forgot to Bring Me: Horrified B-Movie Victims

Santa's neglect has sabotaged my new diet plan. I was going to place these petrified villagers strategically around the dining table to shame me whenever I rolled in as The Blob.

How My Thanksgiving Day Was Ruined Beyond Despair

We all had a lovely Thanksgiving feast and, afterward, I was reminded of a recent revelation which had put me on the path to changing my life for better health and mental pleasure. Apparently, Flintstones Vitamins are not only good supplements for growing girls and boys, but also they're ideal for adults.

Yeehah! Time has not passed me by! All I need to do is visit a drug counter and acquire the pills shaped like beloved animated television stars ("The Leading Brand Moms Trust and Kids Love").

I have never ingested a Flintstones Vitamin, never. Being a first generation fan of the original prime time broadcasts of Bedrock, I've eagerly anticipated englutting me some Rubbles.

My mother refused to purchase these miracle cartoon pills when I was a child. She was skeptical of Stone Age medical practices.

I could not alter her perception, so, instead, I grew up fortified on The Untouchables Multiple Vitamins ("The Leading Brand Molls Trust and Gangsters Loot").

Mom had no trouble getting me to touch The Untouchables. All she had to do was mention a prohibition against the nutrients, so, of course, I'd sneak off and down a daily dose with a large slurp of counterfeit milk and a flapper named "Three-Fingers Flopsy" (who broke my heart -- and seven fingers).

Yesterday, following dessert, I picked up a bottle of Flintstones I found in the happy kitchen of my mother-in-law. There, the ingredient "gelatin" jumped off the vitamins' label and jolted me into the 21st century, much like I had been suddenly pummeled to the ground by Dino, the dinosaur.

"Oh, Fred," I said.

I heard that someplace and it seemed appropriate.

I cannot consume gelatin. I'm not allowed. I'm a vegetarian. Gelatin is made from animal hooves, leftover critter skins, and highlights from Rosie O'Donnell variety specials.

What a crushing disappointment. Did you notice my lips?


What had once promised to be exquisite is now disaster and unrequited.

I shan't ever chew on Wilma.

Hey, the New Diet Is Working Out Great!

And it's all you care to eat!



I'm down six pounds and a couple of canceled after-dinner speeches. I expect to be paid, people!

Oddly enough, the good-night kisses are up.

Thank you, Chef Ghoulicious.

Manlier Than Ever

Mike's Mailbag

Continued From: "100 Things About Me #152"

I may have mentioned this before, but after 11 years on the Internet, I never cease to be amazed by how many people are concerned enough to write to me and inquire about my penis. Some are strangers.

Thank you very much. My penis is fine and taking a nap at the moment. I read him each and every one of your emails, so keep 'em coming.

He's too tired afterwards to reply.

Here's a sample from an actual letter I received recently.

"Penis Enlargement Reviews -- from Rich Potts

"Add almost 3 full inches to the length of your penis... No Pumps! No Surgery! No Exercises!"

Thank you for writing, Mr. Potts. I have never met you and we have arranged nothing in advance.

Hmm, so about that email. I might consider adding "3 full inches." I am nothing, if not redundant.

Overly redundant.

Giftedly redundant.

Let's do the math. Drinking my average amount of liquids, I urinate one dozen times daily.

I counted, on all 10 fingers, one penis, and one nose. Twelve.

Adding three inches per, that's 36 inches, an extra yard I'd have to pee each day, if I came to grips with Mr. Potts' generous enlargement proposition.

Multiply that newly cultivated yard by 365 days and I would need to pee an extra 1,095 feet in a calendar year.

In less than five years, at that length, I would be required to relieve myself a whole additional mile.

My life expectancy may be so kind as to allow me another three decades. Gosh, oh, Mikey! That would be like peeing all the way to town and back.

I'm not up for that. Regardless of what the email says, there would indeed be exercise involved, evacuating the length and breadth of my tubular annex.

On the other hand, three more inches means I would not have to walk as far to go to the bathroom.

What to do? What to do?

I'm going to sleep on it.

100 Things About Me #152

Streams of
Consciousness

For a biographical project, I've been counting the number of times I pee.

And I've learned something.

My life needs more song and dance numbers.


100 Things: #1 | Previous | Next