Shepherd Of The Gurneys: September 2019

Monday, September 23, 2019

Notes From The Trauma Bay

Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.
Motorcycles are not your friend.

Unless you want to be deader than disco before you're 25 years old.

In which case, please make sure your driver's license says "organ donor".
Thousands of people needing transplants await your demise.

Every few years, when I start to think about getting a bike, someone comes in really jacked up from a motorcycle accident, and beats the idea out of me in about one head-to-toe assessment.

Or, sometimes, a head-to-thigh assessment, because that's all the paramedics could find to bring in.

Motorcycle?
Don't.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

HIPPA

These are works of fiction.
Any similarity to actual persons or circumstances, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Especially if you suspect I may have had anything, however coincidental and fictional, in making them dead.
If you think you're reading anything about yourself, or someone you know, or someone you read about, you have the right to remain silent.
If you give up the right to remain silent, I reserve the right to consider you a work of fiction.
Void where prohibited by law.
May contain peanuts, gluten, partially dehydrogenated vegetable fat, and D and C Dye Number 6.
Because a person's a person, no matter what the hippa-potamus says.
So any attempts to annoy, pester, harass, bully, or otherwise vex me about the uncanny similarity you and your delusional psychoses have ascribed to an actual person will result in the deployment of the dreaded "I know you are, but what am I?" gambit, straight out of third grade recess. My 5-year-old neice was 0 for 342 against it, and she was professionally ranked before I broke her, so I'd back off now if I were you.

Comments

Comments are appreciated. They require neither prior ID nor screening for content.
Anonymous abusive or rude comments will be either mocked mercilessly, or simply deleted into the internet ether, solely at the blog owner's discretion. (That would be me.)
If you somehow labor under the misapprehension that free speech applies everywhere, try this experiment: go to your next door neighbor's house, urinate and defecate on his living room floor, and call him a m*****f****** @$$hole, then see whether you receive an award from the ACLU, or an ambulance and police car, who stop momentarily to help collect your teeth.
If you don't get this, you're too stupid to be on the Internet, let alone posting comments on my blog.
Disagreement is one thing, even ignorance can be understandable, but rude @$$holery will not be tolerated here. I have neither the time nor inclination to imbue what a public K-12 failed to instill in those folks bereft of the ability to reason intelligently or behave like well-adapted human beings in polite society.
That's why for you there's a Skid Row.

Monday, September 23, 2019

Notes From The Trauma Bay

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

No, Really