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- Terence Jolley, he warned, made a habit of turning up at funerals and memorials of people with whom he was not really familiar, bringing a large group, in the hope of...
- Robert Burns may also have been suffering from a rather nasty STD, according to a collection of explicit writing apparently by Scotland's national bard
- "B. Traven," the author of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, is an anonymous mystery.
- maps drawn by Leonardo da Vinci scanned and posted in a Google maps interface
Dec. 21st, 2008
So,
I took on a mission to bring![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salome_st_john coffee in order to get cookies.[1] On the way I needed to visit the 7-11 to get antacids, because I require them to avoid choking up and vomiting, always[2], and I was out.
I got the two coffees at Peet's, secured them, and headed to the 7-11. I was nearly sick in the car on the way; past time to fix this problem. Delaying the inevitable with a long drink of water from the bottle in the car, I took a deep breath and charged in.
I got my Pepcid Complete[3] and trotted back out to the car to take it.
Pepcid Complete, as purchased in the 7-11, comes in a matchbook-like cardboard foldover. Inside there are two little envelopes, each containing one pill.
The envelopes are made from a foil-like substance[4] with a paper backing. On one edge of the envelope there is a line drawn, with a scissors icon next to it. The type says "fold on this line, then tear at the slit."
I folded along the line, which was difficult; it was very close to the edge. Nothing like a slit was evident. Tearing at the line was fruitless. The situation was still urgent, and I used increasing force. Coarse words passed my lips. I bit and tore in a canine way, heaved at the thing with fingers and nails, repeated these things. A tear did open along the line, but this was too far from the center of the envelope to release the pill, which still sat swaddled and safe. The canine tearing resumed, with appropriate snarling included. No joy.
I now understood my fate. Modern medicine had been defeated by modern packaging, and I was in a suburban postmodern wasteland rotting from the inside, unable to reach my salvation, as in a bad short story.
Guzzling water and praying not to lose it again, I drove the mile tosalome_st_john's place and rushed in, demanding scissors. I was saved.
Notes
[1] This is a very good way to spend two bucks.
[2] Since puberty I have had acidic stomach and GERD beyond belief. It's crummy. Nothing fixes it. Oh well!
[3] This is a combination of chewable antacid and a dose of famotidine which is an ideal quick-acting solution to sudden acid indigestion. I recommend it.
[4] I have nothing but admiration for the inventors of this remarkable substance. At first it appears to be simply paper and aluminum foil. Fifteen minutes into the process I realized that I had in my hands some miracle of materials science, developed perhaps for the Stealth Bomber, which managed to be soft and ductile yet completely untearable; it could only be cut by a sharp blade. Kudos!
I took on a mission to bring
salome_st_john coffee in order to get cookies.[1] On the way I needed to visit the 7-11 to get antacids, because I require them to avoid choking up and vomiting, always[2], and I was out. I got the two coffees at Peet's, secured them, and headed to the 7-11. I was nearly sick in the car on the way; past time to fix this problem. Delaying the inevitable with a long drink of water from the bottle in the car, I took a deep breath and charged in.
I got my Pepcid Complete[3] and trotted back out to the car to take it.
Pepcid Complete, as purchased in the 7-11, comes in a matchbook-like cardboard foldover. Inside there are two little envelopes, each containing one pill.
The envelopes are made from a foil-like substance[4] with a paper backing. On one edge of the envelope there is a line drawn, with a scissors icon next to it. The type says "fold on this line, then tear at the slit."
I folded along the line, which was difficult; it was very close to the edge. Nothing like a slit was evident. Tearing at the line was fruitless. The situation was still urgent, and I used increasing force. Coarse words passed my lips. I bit and tore in a canine way, heaved at the thing with fingers and nails, repeated these things. A tear did open along the line, but this was too far from the center of the envelope to release the pill, which still sat swaddled and safe. The canine tearing resumed, with appropriate snarling included. No joy.
I now understood my fate. Modern medicine had been defeated by modern packaging, and I was in a suburban postmodern wasteland rotting from the inside, unable to reach my salvation, as in a bad short story.
Guzzling water and praying not to lose it again, I drove the mile to
salome_st_john's place and rushed in, demanding scissors. I was saved. Notes
[1] This is a very good way to spend two bucks.
[2] Since puberty I have had acidic stomach and GERD beyond belief. It's crummy. Nothing fixes it. Oh well!
[3] This is a combination of chewable antacid and a dose of famotidine which is an ideal quick-acting solution to sudden acid indigestion. I recommend it.
[4] I have nothing but admiration for the inventors of this remarkable substance. At first it appears to be simply paper and aluminum foil. Fifteen minutes into the process I realized that I had in my hands some miracle of materials science, developed perhaps for the Stealth Bomber, which managed to be soft and ductile yet completely untearable; it could only be cut by a sharp blade. Kudos!
