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Friday, January 13, 2006

And they yelled as they danced, "Look around you! The Vikings must have won the Super Bowl!"

Several weeks ago one of my co-workers was complaining about toe pain. Apparently the big toenail on her left foot was in the early stages of ingrown-dom and was causing her much grief. "My word," she sort of said (I'm paraphrasing in hopes of keeping this a family-rated blog), "my toe is certainly causing me more than a bit of discomfort. I wish there was an easy way to alleviate said pain."

Well, one of my other co-workers pointed out, there are doctors who specialize in such things...

"Actually, though I mean no disparagement of the medical profession in general," she didn't say but the gist was the same, "I consider doctors to be the sort of people I wish to avoid, as a general policy. In my years working as a registered nurse I've oft seen things to leave me somewhat unimpressed."

Well, said another one of my co-workers (up to this point the only one aware that this blog existed), have you read Charlie's online dealie about fixing his toenail?

I had hoped, actually, to stay out of the conversation, but there was immediate demand to see said online dealie so I dutifully pulled up this post from my early days of meaningless musing. People read it, there was general consensus that I was a big freak, and we went on with our night's work.

I never gave it more thought, until a couple of weeks ago when the same co-worker came up to me and said, "Well, I tried your toe-fixing technique."

I was completely floored - had no idea what she was talking about, at first. But indeed, as she told the story, she'd printed the blog entry out so as not to skip any steps and taken Swiss Army knife and pliers in hand and by heck done a little do-it-yourself podiatry. "It was remarkably discomfort-causing," she more or less said. "I spent some time thinking back on various events in my life that have caused me physical anguish and this experience certainly ranks high among them."

But, in the end, she concurred that the short-term discomfort of cutting into her own toe with a camping knife and then ripping part of said toe off with household pliers was absolutely worth it. She said she'd kept a copy of the post in case she ever needed to suggest the therapy to anyone else.

Which makes it seem as if this blog has actually done some good for someone. Which is, to say the least, a daunting concept.

Comments:
Perhaps it's time for you to invest in some legal disclaimers. I would hate for you to get sued and thereby end your ability to dispense such good advice. For instance I would hate for someone to read your previous post and begin to mutilate Christmas songs... especially in January.
 
Are we still playing "Which song did the title of my blog entry come from?"?

If so, I'll guess this one is from the classic Stan and Doug tune, "Baby, It's Cold Down Here."
 
If you need some liability-disclaimer language, I am all over it! That is, you know, the sacred call of a diaconal minister. At least this one.

Here's a suggestion: "If you think it would be lots of fun to sue me, I will gladly send you a copy of my student loan portfolio!" you could say, more or less.

Or instead, you could not really say something like this: "Neither Charlie nor Meanlingless Musings is responsible for death, injury of any sort, loss of property, delay or inconvenience occasioned by force majeure or other acts of God, acts of government, acts of war, labor discord, criminal or terrorist conduct or for any other act, action or inaction, whether negligent or otherwise, resulting from actions inspired by this blog entry."

You know, just to cover your... um, toe.
 
Good thing you didn't call your blog "Reliable Podiatric Advice." I think your present title probably obviates the need for any disclaimer.
 
You guys think I should be on the defensive? I was thinking I should maybe be patenting my toe removal system and threatening punitive legal action for anyone who attempts to copy it without paying me some sort of fee. Maybe Victorinox (sp?) would be willing to partner with me.

And, as Dave astutely notes, the "guess the lyric" game is alas over with the passing of 2005. You seem to have caught the allusion, though!
 
I think I missed the allusion, even with that nice hint.

But I am sort of used to that. Maybe you should publish a little Glossary of Meaningless Musings Allusions for Dummies. :-) Or I could invest in a few CD's...

Heh. Remember when CD used to mean Certificate of Deposit?

Hey. IM me! I'm bored!

Heh (again). Word verification just very helpfully suggested a few old entries, just in case I want to use them again. Thanks, word verification!
Or should I say shrlgi! wnvgypr! yxcqmkno!
 
It's an allusion to the punch line of a Sven and Ole joke:

Sven and Ole die and, having not necessarily been good Norwegians, find themselves in Hell. The first day they're there the devil meanders by to see his new residents are enjoying their torment. To his surprise and disconcertment they're lounging around their cell singing songs and drinking beer.

"What the hell?" the devil asks with surprisingly little awareness of his ironic choice of words. "You're not supposed to be happy! You're roasting in flames!"

"Well, ja sure," replies Ole in typical-for-this-type-of-joke generic Norwegian fashion, "but we're both from International Falls, don't you know, and we've got plenty of cold stored up. This warm feels just about right!"

Well phoo on that, thinks the devil, and he heads over to the Infernal Thermostat and cranks it up as high as it will go. The flames shoot high and the screams redouble. Grinning evilly (of course) to himself, the devil goes back to Sven and Ole's cell, only to find them roasting a walleye over the flames as they relax in shorts and T-shirts.

"Hey HEY hey hey hey!" the devil yells. "Quit enjoying Hell! How can you not mind the heat in here?"

"Well, you see," replies Sven, "it is a bit hot in here, no mistaking. But back in International Falls we learned to never miss an opportunity for a walleye roast!" And he and Ole raise their beer mugs in appreciation to the devil, who by this point is somewhere beyond incensed and into p.o.'d territory. He runs back to the Infernal Thermostat and turns it all the way down as far as it will go.

"So they're happy to be away from the cold, are they? Well, then let's make it cold!" he yells and lets loose a generic cartoon-ish bad guy laugh. The flames quickly die down and frost rimes the cell bars around Hell. Icicles begin to form and snow begins to fall. He runs back to Sven and Ole's cell only to find them dancing around and singing with glee.

"What now?!?" the devil yells.

And they yelled as they danced, "Look around you! The Vikings must have won the Super Bowl!"

This was a long comment... probably shoulda made it its own post.
 
Nice!
Gotta love Minnesotans. :-)

It's not too late to make it its own post. It's *never* too late to increase the net literary output of the world!!!
 
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